ã€ŠThe Pragmatist&#x27;s Guide To Surviving The Apocalypse [A Deckbuilding LitRPG]ã€‹


 Chapter 1 â€“ The Beginning Of The End

    The world ended not with a bang, but with a game show.

    It was a brisk, clear night when Earth was integrated into the system and John awoke to the sound of squealing.

    His wife had thought it would be a grand idea to buy a teacup pig as a pet. She had seen one in an online video and immediately fallen in love with them.

    It was a sentiment that John whole heartedly disagreed with as he was roused at approximately 3am to the sounds of scrabbling and squealing.

    Groggily he rolled out of bed, forsaking the warmth of the duvet cover for the frozen wastes of their over-priced, second floor apartment.

    The couple had hoped that they would be on the property ladder by this point in their lives, but as any millennial would attest, that was a luxury reserved predominately for the middle class and those with wealthy parents - in modern day society at least.

    These were the kinds of ponderous thoughts John usually had when he was rudely awoken by Truffle the teacup pig during the night, along with his lamentation of the rising cost of energy bills ¨C hence the low temperature of the room.

    He plodded across the bedroom carpet and gasped slightly as his feet touched the laminate flooring in their living room / kitchen.

    A small shadow with a thin, curly tail beat its cloven hooves against the front door, squealing and snorting as it desperately tried to escape. At seventeen inches tall and twenty pounds soaking wet, he had no chance of battering the door down, though this didn¡¯t deter the plucky little guy from trying all the same.

    The problem with owning a miniature farm animal when you lived in a second-floor apartment was oftentimes as simple as the call of nature. John and his wife didn¡¯t have a garden, and Truffle couldn¡¯t use a toilet. That was a bit of an issue.

    Anne, John¡¯s wife, had tried numerous times to teach the pig to use the toilet like a human, however, Truffle suffered from a vertical disadvantage and couldn¡¯t quite reach up to lift the lid.

    Any reasonable person might ascertain that by leaving the toilet seat up, Truffle¡¯s chances of using it would increase tenfold. However, Anne was not a reasonable person and she had made it her life¡¯s mission to berate John any time he forgot to put it down.

    Apparently it was man¡¯s solemn duty to close the lid and protect their female counterparts from ever having to sully their hands by touching one.

    Despite her oftentimes nonsensical behaviour, John loved his wife and it was that love that drove him to curse under his breath as he scooped up the little pig and opened the door.

    This was the third night in a row that Truffle¡¯s bowls had failed him and John had been left to, quite literally, pick up the pieces.

    Grabbing a dressing gown from the hook by the door and slinging it over his shoulders like a cape, John left the apartment and descended the stairs as goosebumps littered his exposed flesh.

    He exited the building and unceremoniously dumped the small pig onto the grass outside of their apartment building. However, this night Truffle didn¡¯t obediently do his business.

    The pig squealed even louder and began thumping the ground. For such a small animal, Truffle could make an embarrassing amount of sound when he wanted to, which was something the neighbours knew all too well.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t get that damn thing to shut the hell up I¡¯ll come down there and make it into the world¡¯s smallest bacon sandwich!¡± Joe, their downstairs neighbour, shouted as he slid his window open and shoved his partially bald head through it.

    ¡°You¡¯d know all about the world¡¯s smallest, Mr Parkinson,¡± John replied monotonously as he subconsciously rolled his eyes at the bitter old man.

    He knew, of course, that the man¡¯s outrage was completely justified in this instance, but that didn¡¯t make John like him any better.

    ¡°No respect,¡± Joe muttered to himself as he shook his head in the window, ¡°damn kids with their teacup pigs and their avocado toast, and you wonder why you can¡¯t afford a house deposit.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mr Parkinson,¡± John replied, ¡°it¡¯s definitely all the avocado¡¯s fault. I take it that¡¯s the reason that you live in the same block as I do? Perhaps avocado addiction is becoming a bit of an epidemic?¡±

    Joe Parkinson slammed his window shut, leaving in a huff, and John¡¯s attention was pulled back towards the little pig who was now facing away from him and staring up at the sky.

    He was deathly quiet which, as anyone with a pet pig would tell you, was quite strange. John followed the pig¡¯s gaze, gasping once again, but this time not because of the cold flooring.

    A large, floating head with no hair and a blank facial expression lit up the night sky with its green, ethereal features. The ground shook suddenly and a nearby car alarm went off as John and Truffle silently stared.

    ¡°Honey, you¡¯ve been gone a long time,¡± Anne called in a hushed shout as she exited the building, ¡°is Truffle alright?¡±

    Neither John nor Truffle replied as they stared up into the sky. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was fear, shock, or sheer bewilderment that kept his feet firmly rooted in place, but that initial lack of movement might have just saved his life.

    The ground shook once again with a tremor that cracked the ground behind the family. John and Anne turned their heads at almost the exact same time as their apartment block began to implode and a jagged cracked formed, splitting the building in two as something large and metallic forced its way through the earth¡¯s crust right where their apartment block was.

    The walls broke apart with a thundering crack and the front door exploded outwards, splinters narrowly missing John¡¯s face as the wood popped under the pressure of the falling building.

    ¡°What¡¯s all that racket!¡± Joe Parkinson shouted in a gruff and irritated voice as he stuck his head out of the window once more.

    Those were the last words he would ever say as the shuddering building collapsed and a loose roofing tile fell from above to smash the elderly man in the back of the skull with a sickening crunch.

    Anne shrieked as blood splattered her dressing gown and legs. The metallic structure rose higher and higher, shattering the brick falls of the building and flinging dust and debris everywhere. It resembled an archway, but it was much taller than most and the metallic material it was made from glimmered in a way that hurt John¡¯s eyes.

    As the strange object forced its way through the Earth¡¯s crust it took out two whole blocks of buildings, roads, and anything else that blocked its path to ascension. John, still rooted to the spot, watched on with horror as family homes, cars, roads, and people were thrown miles into the air whilst the floating green head in the sky gazed impassively at the carnage.

    If John, his wife, or Truffle had been even a few feet closer to their apartment building, they would¡¯ve been killed. The fact that they had been saved by the pig¡¯s infuriating lack of bowl control was not lost on John and became even more pertinent as the flying rubble crashed back down to earth.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Craters erupted all around as building fragments, cars, and concrete hit the ground with the force of a bombing run. A stray piece of shrapnel slid past John¡¯s arm but, though it hurt like hell, he was too numb to react.

    Bodies fell to the ground and he stared in abject horror as his neighbours quite literally exploded with the impact. Gore and blood filled the streets and further stained Anne¡¯s white dressing gown. The whole ordeal gave an entirely new meaning to the song It¡¯s Raining Men.

    It all happened in a few horrifying moments and was followed by an immediate and crushing silence that not even car alarms or sirens dared to break. John took a deep breath, his heart pounded as he looked at the wreckage in disbelief.

    He barely had time to take in the scene before the green head opened its mouth for the first time and a booming voice bellowed out across the city so loudly it caused John physical pain as he instinctively cupped his ears.

    ¡°People of Earth,¡± it boomed in a deep, monotonous voice, ¡°congratulations, you have been chosen to host the 999<sup>th</sup> Inter-Planetary System games. This is a tradition which has spanned millennia and you should be honoured to take part.

    ¡°In a few moments the torii gates will open allowing ten percent of your population to volunteer as contestants. I urge you all to attempt to enter your closest gate as any who are left behind will be exterminated.

    ¡°Each gate can only admit a limited number of people and will close in exactly five Earth minutes. Do your best, contestants. The entire universe is watching. It is with great pride that I now officially announce the commencement of Battle Royale Earth!¡±

    With the final word the floating head disappeared and the strange structure that had destroyed the local area burst into bright, violet light.

    Now that John could look at it properly, it did resemble a Japanese torii gate with a glowing, almost wet-looking, portal in the middle. However, in place of the red, curved wood which should have bisected the top of the two cylinders, there was a black, rectangular piece of metal with the number five sunken into it.

    The number glowed in a scarlet hue and reminded John of the numbers on an old Casio watch from the nineties.

    That number must be the countdown. John thought, his mind racing.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Anne asked her husband, trembling and wide eyed.

    He had always been the main decision maker in their relationship. His wife was many things, but clam under pressure, she was not.

    John scooped up Truffle whilst he thought for a moment. Logically he had five minutes to make his choice, but he wouldn¡¯t need that much time. The choice was obvious. The floating head had massacred his entire apartment building just to give its gate a place to sit, there was no doubt in John¡¯s mind that a creature that powerful could and would eradicate all life on Earth. It had said as much and he had no reason to doubt its words.

    Therefore, the choice was simple.

    ¡°We go through the gate,¡± he said stoically, gazing up at the large, purple portal before them.

    ¡°But what if it¡¯s lying?¡± Anne asked as she visibly shook in the cold night air, the blood of their neighbours soaking her skin.

    ¡°It just killed god knows how many people in a matter of seconds,¡± John replied grimly, ¡°if someone points a gun at you do you question whether there¡¯s a round in the chamber? No, you just do what they say so you don¡¯t get shot. So, we go through the gate.¡±

    Anne looked at him thoughtfully as tears crested the edges of her green hazel eyes. John had always thought that they sparkled so beautifully when she was sad. It was morbid, he knew, to think that his wife was especially beautiful when she was upset, but the way they glittered as the thin layer of moisture hung there, just before the tears dropped, was simply breath taking.

    ¡°J-John,¡± she stuttered quietly, as if struggling to sound the words out. ¡°What if whatever is through that gate is¡­ worse than death?¡±

    His eyes widened as he looked at the woman he loved. His heart hurt, stung by how easily she had inferred what was essentially a suicide pact. Even if she was right, it was surely worth the risk. She had to know that deep down even if she was terrified.

    ¡°There is no hope in death darling,¡± he breathed, barely able to find his voice, ¡°but through that gate, no matter what awaits us, if we¡¯re together¡­ if we¡¯re alive¡­ then-¡±

    He didn¡¯t get the chance to finish his sentence as a family of three sprinted past him hysterically, nearly knocking him to the ground. He recognised them, the Johnsons. They were good people; Frank had helped him fix his car when it had broken down last winter.

    Without hesitation the two men and their child dived into the purple light of the torii gate and vanished. It was as if they had been teleported away - where to was anyone¡¯s guess.

    Immediately after their departure John heard an electronic clicking sound which rang out three times. He turned back to Anne to see her face begin to pale as the cresting tears began to slide down her delicate, blood splattered cheeks.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡± She asked slowly.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± John replied hastily as he grabbed his wife¡¯s hand with his free one, his other still holding the pig firmly under one arm. ¡°The talking head said that the gate would only let a certain number of people through so we need to hurry.¡±

    Anne pulled against his strong grip at first but it was a token effort. She was wide eyed and terrified but John knew that if he could just get her through the gate, even if he had to drag her through it, she would be ok. At least, if nothing else, she¡¯d be alive and they¡¯d be together.

    He turned back towards the torii gate and out of the top corner of his eyes noticed that something was different. Looking upwards he saw that the glowing number five on the crossbeam now read two.

    That¡¯s all we need, he thought as he led his reluctant wife towards the gate, we¡¯ve wasted three whole minutes arguing when we should have already gone through.

    As he approached the portal he could feel a soothing heat being cast out from its flowing, violet form. It really did resemble water, like a calm lake¡¯s surface before a storm.

    John didn¡¯t have a free hand with which to reach out, but part of him wanted to. He wanted to touch the strange liquid like a curious child. Instead, he would have to walk through it face first with Anne in tow, marching into the unknown.

    Under any other circumstance he¡¯d have never forced her to do something she wasn¡¯t comfortable with, but he had seen shock before and he knew that preserving life was always the best option.

    Maybe he was being selfish, but he couldn¡¯t bear the thought of losing her. So he walked purposely towards the portal.

    ¡°Stop!¡± A voice shouted from behind them.

    John turned back to see the barrel of a gun pointed at him. It was a black pistol with a flat top which he instantly recognised as a Glock 19.

    ¡°Back away from the portal buddy,¡± The stranger said shakily.

    He was a clean-shaven man in a police uniform and he had a wild expression in his shifty eyes. Something about the way he stood with one foot forward and a balanced centre of gravity told John that this man knew how to use his weapon. The cop uniform may have also helped to inform that conclusion.

    ¡°What seems to be the problem officer?¡± John asked.

    This had to be a case of mistaken identity or something. Though why anyone would continue performing their duties in the face of total annihilation was beyond him. Unless¡­

    ¡°The problem, pal, is that there are only two places left through that portal and I¡¯m taking one of them.¡± The police officer said matter-of-factly as he took a tentative step to the side of Anne, edging closer to the portal.

    John didn¡¯t take his eyes off the man though he felt his wife¡¯s hand tremble and he could hear her breathing quicken.

    The number on the gate, he thought as realisation dawned on him, it¡¯s not a countdown, it¡¯s the number of places available. We have to get through it no matter what!

    ¡°If you take that spot you¡¯ll be killing us!¡± John roared desperately at the officer.

    ¡°And?¡± He replied, a slight break to his voice, ¡°if you take those places I¡¯ll die. I¡¯m not the bad guy here, I¡¯m just trying to survive, exactly the same as you are.¡±

    ¡°What about my wife?¡± John retorted, an angry growl underpinning his words. ¡°What happened to saving the women and children first? Didn¡¯t you take an oath to protect and serve?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the fifties pal,¡± the officer snarled back, pointing the Glock firmly at John¡¯s head as he continued to circle them slowly. ¡°Modern women want equality and what¡¯s more equal than this? I¡¯m practically a feminist,¡± he snorted a harsh laugh that didn¡¯t reach his cold eyes.

    At this point John knew that if he didn¡¯t do something before the cop finished circling them then he and Anne would die. It was a foolish act to charge at a man holding a gun, but what choice did he have? He couldn¡¯t let it end here. He wouldn¡¯t allow his wife to be murdered by a genocidal alien overlord.

    Letting go of Anne¡¯s hand, he moved to shoulder barge the cop out of the way so that Anne could go through. She had to live. He¡¯d die for her if he had to and if he took a bullet, at least he¡¯d go out on his own terms instead of at the hands of a floating head in the sky.

    He took a deep breath and prepared to charge, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Then, just as he let go of Anne¡¯s hand, he felt something shove him forcefully to the side.

    He looked towards his wife with wide eyes as she gazed at him with both arms held out.

    ¡°Anne?¡±

    He fell, Truffle tucked under his arm, towards the torii gate. His skin touched the violet surface, it felt silky and warm.

    John stared at his wife in abject horror, the world slowing to a crawl, as she smiled lovingly at him. Tears crested her eyes, yet the hysteria was gone and she was no longer shaking.

    ¡°You have to live John. You can beat this, you can win!¡± She called after him as the portal took hold, dragging him into the abyss.

    His vision vanished and the image of his wife smiling at him with tears in her eyes was burned into his retina. He heard a gunshot and then¡­ darkness.

    ¡°ANNE!¡± He yelled.

 Chapter 2 â€“ Glass Pods

    Anne, John tried to scream but no noise escaped his lips. He was shrouded in darkness with none of his senses working. He couldn¡¯t even feel his own body as his mind drifted aimlessly through the void.

    Maybe she made it through, he thought desperately, maybe she jumped in straight after me.

    John knew that was a long shot, practically impossible given the situation and the certainty that he¡¯d heard a gunshot as he passed through the gate.

    Still, it was easier to hope than to admit that she was dead. The love of his life, gone in a flash. She¡¯d saved his life by sacrificing her own.

    His grief was overwhelming and soon mixed with a raging hatred for the man who had caused all of this.

    If that cop made it through, he thought loathingly, then I will hunt him down and kill him in the most painful way possible.

    Skill unlocked:

    Trauma Response.

    The words passed through his mind in a flash and suddenly he felt numb. His wife was probably dead and yet he felt nothing.

    Well, not exactly nothing. John still felt a pulsing sense of loss coursing through his very being. He felt sad. Like a part of him had been lost forever. His heart physically hurt and he wanted to cry and hug his knees under the warmth of a long shower.

    Skill unlocked:

    Greif Counselling.

    Once again words flashed through his mind and the sadness was gone, replaced with an anger towards both the cop and the giant face in the sky for causing this mess.

    He swore to himself once more that he would hunt down that cop and end his life. Assuming he made it through the portal.

    The feeling of loss and pain still lingered. It was just that those feelings were¡­ faint. Whilst only a moment ago they were an all-encompassing whirlpool threatening to drown him, now they were just¡­ kind of there.

    It was a strange feeling, to know that he should be distraught, that he was barely a second earlier, but now he felt calm. The burning anger and pain that was whirring inside of him turned to cold rage. He still wanted to kill the man, he wanted it more than anything else in the world, but it wasn¡¯t the only thought occupying his brain anymore.

    The words that had flashed through his mind reminded him of a video game. They had said skill unlocked and John wondered if it was similar to the kinds of skills one acquired in role playing games.

    Perhaps there would be a skill tree like in Skyrim. Maybe he could become a stealth archer¡­ then again, why would he want to use a bow in a world that had guns. That wasn¡¯t very logical even if it was pretty awesome¡­ and a meme.

    Words flashed through his head again, this time they were more like an announcement than an unlocked ability.

    Congratulations, you have made it through the torii gate and are now officially entered into Battle Royale Earth. Please choose a player name.

    Choose a name? What was wrong with his name? Perhaps this was like a gamertag, back in the noughties he¡¯d called himself XxnoobkillerxX and he¡¯d kept the same one into adulthood. That was mostly because he was too lazy to change it though.

    Something like that seemed a little outdated nowadays. He liked his real name, common as it was. Then an idea struck him.

    John Doe, he thought into the void.

    It made sense. This way he could keep his real first name, but also, he¡¯d likely be dead soon anyway. Just another unknown body lying broken in the gutter. In an odd way, he found that notion comforting. At least there was no one left to grieve for him when that inevitability came to pass.

    When did I become so morbid? He thought dourly.

    Player name: John Doe has been accepted.

    The words of acceptance flashed through his mind and then he was back in the real world. He was sealed in a long tube with just enough room to turn around.

    Glass surrounded him and he gazed out into space. Stars glittered and the Earth was below him, a giant ball floating in an empty expanse.

    Screw you flat earthers, he thought to himself as he looked out at his home and smiled.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    It was beautiful, the kind of wonderous majesty that should have evoked a powerful feeling within him. Under any other circumstance this experience would be incredible, and in a way it was. Am I smiling? Still, the looming threat of the floating head and the knowledge that most of the population was probably already dead soured the moment for John a little.

    John looked down to see that he was wearing a skintight, full body suit in a deep blue colour. At least he wasn¡¯t naked, that would have been a little too clich¨¦ and would have made probing him that much easier.

    That¡¯s what aliens do right? He thought, probe people?

    Looking back across the expanse of space he saw millions of other glass pods orbiting the Earth. The closest one to his was a small pod with a pink quadruped standing inside it. The animal had black patches on its skin and it took John a moment to recognise it.

    Truffle stared at him through the glass. The tiny pig had made it through the portal. He had been tucked safely under John¡¯s arm when he was pushed through. Of course, he¡¯d only bothered to pick Truffle up because he knew his wife would never leave him behind. Now though, that damned pig was the only tangible thing he had left of her.

    Floating behind Truffle and the other pods was an armada of spaceships. Real life spaceships, who¡¯d have thought? One of them was a giant orb that slightly resembled the Death Star apart from the crudely painted letters on the side that spelled O.R.C.

    John¡¯s attention was so divided by the various floating objects that he didn¡¯t know where to look. He felt like he should have been freaking out, but he wasn¡¯t. Instead he was fairly calm. It must have been an effect of those weird skills. Any normal person would be having a heart attack were they in his position.

    In a flash of green light the floating head appeared once again. It was almost as big as their planet, looming above Earth and staring impassively at the tubes. Its voice boomed out in the same monotony as before, though this time it was projected straight into John¡¯s head.

    I guess there¡¯s no sound in space even for powerful alien-head monsters, he thought.

    752 million of you managed to make it through the torii gates. This is just below ten percent of your population. Congratulations humans, you may now witness the end of your planet as you know it. Behold! The final word rang out, reverberating painfully in John¡¯s mind

    The head disappeared again as huge mushroom clouds littered the Earth¡¯s surface. Continents shifted and lights went out all across the planet.

    From the depths of space, it was a surreal sight. The lights that disappeared all across the planet marked the genocide of billions of people. John hoped that it was quick and painless for them¡­ unless that cop was still down there.

    If he was, then John hoped that bastard burned and turned into a Fallout feral ghoul or something equally painful and disgusting. He really despised that man.

    John, Truffle, and their fellow survivors watched helplessly from their pods as their home was destroyed. The head had mentioned something about a game, would it be played in a nuclear wasteland? Surely the alien head knew enough about basic human anatomy to understand the deadly effects of radiation¡­ didn¡¯t it?

    John didn¡¯t have to wait long for an answer. The green, ethereal head reappeared in front of them soon after the final light vanished and the planet went dark, its impassive expression on full view, as it spoke into John¡¯s mind once more.

    Your planet will now be reborn anew as it integrates with the system. Soon you will be returned to the surface for the 999<sup>th</sup> season of Battle Royale. This season it will be overseen by me, Chairman Tanlan of the Inter-Planetary System Council, with assistance from coveted and honourable showrunners with prior experience in running these games.

    Battle Royale is a time-honoured tradition in which the inhabitants of a newly integrated world fight to see who is the strongest of the species.

    There can only be one winner, though you won¡¯t just be fighting amongst yourselves down there. In a few moments you will have to choose your starting location and from there you will have ten Earth days to find a torii gate and ascend to the next round.

    In order to pass the first round you must collect a full deck of four cards and one soul card. Killing other contestants is not mandatory in the first round, but it is strongly advised that you do so. Failure to collect a full deck of cards will result in you being unable to ascend to the next round.

    If you do not go through the gate in time you will be exterminated.

    Now, get out there and CULL THE MASSES!

    As the last words bounced around John¡¯s skull in an intolerably loud echo, it sounded like hundreds of other voices joined Chairman Tanlan¡¯s.

    Before John had time to think further on the implications of that, there was a small flash of violet light and a large slot machine appeared in front of his pod.

    It was quite literally floating in space, lever and all, as three spinning sections rotated slowly in the centre of the contraption. The last time John had seen a slot machine he¡¯d lost one hundred dollars¡¯ worth of quarters in Atlantic City.

    The rotating sections had pictures on them, just like any normal slot machine, but in place of cherries and the number seven, there were pictures of land masses.

    He saw a shape, that looked slightly like a hanging phallus, roll by on the centre section and instantly recognised it as the geographical representation of Florida.

    Try your luck contestant! Pull the level for your first free spin!

    Words ruminated in his skull just like they had previously and with a hearty sigh he complied.

    He reached out, but his hand hit the hard glass of his pod. Just in case, he tried to push his fingers through the glass, you could never know with these odd alien contraptions after all, but it was solid and his hand did not pass through.

    ¡°How exactly am I supposed to pull the lever when there¡¯s a glass pod between us?¡± He asked nobody in particular in his frustration.

    Action:

    ¡°Pull the lever¡±

    Has been accepted.

    The words flashed through his mind both visually and in a robotic, female voice which reminded him of an android on a TV show he¡¯d once seen.

    Before his very eyes the lever was yanked down by an invisible force and the slot machine¡¯s centre sections began spinning.

    The first section stopped, landing on a landmass that looked a little bit like someone had tried to make a pancake in the shape of the Millenium Flacon, and failed.

    Then the second section landed on the same image, and the third. John was no geography scholar, but he knew where he was going to be sent.

    Christ alive! He cursed internally, they¡¯re sending me there? Every animal and insect in that country was attempting to kill people before all of this, God only knows how bad it¡¯ll be now.

    He sighed, resigning himself to a fate most unfortunate, as the robotic voice rang, and words flashed through his mind once more.

    Congratulations! Your starting location will be:

    Australia.

    ¡°Yup, I¡¯m definitely going to die,¡± he said to himself, wondering if picking the name John Doe might have somehow caused this unfortunate event, like some sort of karmic retribution.

    He sighed loudly and that sigh quickly devolved into a scream as the pod suddenly and violently plummeted towards the Earth¡¯s surface.

    ¡°There¡¯s not supposed to be any gravity in spaaaaacccceeee!¡±

 Chapter 3 â€“ First Contact

    The glass pod rocketed towards the planet¡¯s surface and John screamed like an agoraphobe at an open-air festival.

    Plummeting to the ground from over 100,000 miles away felt a lot like the kamikaze slide his dad had tricked him into riding when he was a child.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s a nice, gentle waterslide,¡± he¡¯d said.

    A few minutes later a young John¡¯s swimming trunks needed to be surgically removed from his rectum and he wasn¡¯t best pleased about it.

    Free falling in a glass tube from orbit felt a little bit like that, mixed with the sensation of his cheeks being about to be ripped from his face.

    It got worse when his pod entered the atmosphere a few moments later and caught on fire.

    Fortunately, that was the end of John¡¯s frightful freefalling experience as he saw a flash of all-encompassing violet light and suddenly found his pod stuck into the ground.

    After a few seconds of heart palpitations and trying to alleviate the horrendous dry mouth he was experiencing, the glass pod shattered around him and he felt the arid, inescapable heat of the Australian outback all around him.

    He was surrounded by red desert sands, clumpy patches of grass and the occasional tree. He may as well have been on mars which, judging by recent events, was a distinct possibility for future rounds.

    Burning rays beamed down on him from above uninterrupted by the cloudless blue sky that seemed to be an endless ocean above his head.

    Then he heard squealing.

    So much for my serene new home, he thought to himself as he looked around for the source of the noise.

    Turning around he saw a large dust trail reaching up towards the sky. Worryingly, it was getting closer and the squealing sound was getting louder.

    New Quest:

    First Contact

    Objective:

    Survive the encounter.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s just great,¡± John said, raising his hand to his brow in a vain attempt to prevent the sun¡¯s glare from impeding his vision.

    The racing dust cloud was almost upon him and in the near distance he could just about make out the source.

    What appeared to be a mechanised kangaroo on tank treads was chasing a small animal across the outback.

    ¡°I must be seeing things,¡± John murmured to himself as the pair moved closer. ¡°Nope, that¡¯s definitely a kangaroo-mech¡­ Mecharoo? It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°Help!¡± A desperate and high-pitched voice cried out between familiar squeals.

    It seemed to be coming from the small animal. As he watched the chase, John was impressed that the¡­ whatever it was, could run fast enough to keep away from Mecharoo. The quadruped was just so tiny, it seemed implausible to John that a creature of such small stature could outrun an adversary of that size.

    The Mecharoo must have been at least ten feet tall from his best guess and it formed an intimidating frame. A kangaroo¡¯s body attached to tank treads and with¡­ were those boxing gloves for hands?

    As John calmly pondered the situation before him, the small animal reached him in a panic.

    ¡°John?¡± It asked.

    ¡°Truffle?¡± He replied.

    ¡°It is you!¡± The teacup pig squealed with delight as it padded the ground excitedly. ¡°When I saw you in the pod I wasn¡¯t sure if it was real. Is Miss Anne with you? I must find her; she¡¯ll be so happy to know I came back. I was such a good boy. Then again if she realises I¡¯m smart enough to find my way home then she might try that awful toilet training again. Maybe I should-¡±

    ¡°Listen,¡± John interrupted hurriedly, ¡°I¡¯m really glad you¡¯re alive and everything but now isn¡¯t the time for a catch up. That kangaroo is almost here and¡­ wait, you can talk?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve always been able to talk!¡± Truffle squealed proudly as he continued to pad at the red desert sand, ¡°our late-night conversations in front of the apartment are some of my fondest memories.¡±

    ¡°Late night conversations?¡± John asked, struggling to recall a time when he¡¯d ever had a conversation with the pig, ¡°do you mean when you need to go poop in the night?¡± The pig looked up, opening his mouth about to reply when John suddenly interrupted, ¡°Run!¡± He shouted, just as Mecharoo reached them and a red boxing glove shot from its wrist like something out of Inspector Gadget.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    The glove practically exploded away from the mechanical beast with a small, rocket-like flame propelling it towards them.

    John scooped up Truffle with one hand and dived to the side, narrowly avoiding the glove which blasted into the ground where they¡¯d been standing.

    With a deafening bang, the glove exploded on impact sending shrapnel and red dust everywhere. John coughed as he pushed himself up from the ground with a single arm and turned back towards the mech.

    Firing the projectile boxing glove hadn¡¯t slowed it down in the slightest and it was about half a second away from flattening him and Truffle like roadkill.

    Without a second thought, John began sprinting away from the Mecharoo as fast as he could. He pumped his legs faster than he thought was possible and, ignoring the burning sensation in his muscles, headed towards a random tree.

    There was no real reason for the selection, it was just the only local landmark in the wasteland of the post-system Australian outback and he needed a target.

    ¡°What the hell was that!¡± Truffle squealed as he shuffled and struggled under John¡¯s arm to look behind them.

    ¡°An exploding boxing glove,¡± John puffed as he ran, ¡°have you not seen one before?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Truffle replied incredulously, ¡°why, have you?¡±

    ¡°Only in cartoons,¡± John said through laboured breathing, ¡°It probably says A.C.M.E on it.¡±

    Though he didn¡¯t have time to stop and look, John could tell that Mecharoo was gaining ground on him. The sound of heavy tank treads flattening the sand and sediment was getting louder along with the mechanical clanging sound coming from the mecha-beast.

    He was almost at his targeted destination but his legs were seizing up already and his heart was beating way too fast. That would have been fine if the tree was actually the goal, but John had no idea what he planned to do once he reached it.

    There was nothing around for as far as the eye could see. They were in the outback for god¡¯s sake. There were no towns, no cars, no people or weapons, and they were being chased by a giant kangaroo death machine for some reason.

    The only thing he knew for sure was that in this situation, running was not the final solution. He would run out of steam way before Mecharoo would. He needed a way to fight back.

    That was when he saw something shinny sticking out of a knot in the tree. It was only a hunch, but it was all he had, so he raced firmly towards the shining object and hoped it would be useful.

    ¡°John,¡± Truffled squealed, ¡°I really hope you have a plan because I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to carry you if your legs give out.¡±

    Ignoring his companion he focused solely on reaching the tree and whatever was hidden within it. Pumping his legs with all of his strength he made a mad dash towards the shimmering object.

    As he got closer he could just about make out a rectangular shape, the corner of it was stuck into the tree. Was it a piece of metal? He wasn¡¯t quite sure, but something about the way it shone called to him.

    It was as if the little rectangle was veiled in an ethereal glow that shimmered like a desert haze. He just hoped it wasn¡¯t some kind of mirage or they¡¯d be done for.

    He reached the tree with his free hand, held out in front of him, and snatched the metal object from the tree trunk. It was easily removed and he continued running past the tree with his prize clutched tightly in his calloused fingers.

    Unable to look at his new loot without risking tripping over himself, John moved to tuck it into the blue bodysuit he was wearing.

    He undid the zipper and attempted to slide the piece of metal inside so that he could pump his spare arm and run faster. He¡¯d need to put more distance between himself and Mecharoo if he wanted to actually examine the metal object and hopefully find a use for it.

    Logically, he didn¡¯t even know why he¡¯d picked it up. It was a piece of metal, what use could that possibly be to him in this current situation? However, something about it called out to him on a deeper level than his conscious mind understood.

    But it was about to.

    As John slipped the metal rectangle into his bodysuit he felt a pleasant burning sensation coming from his solar plexus. It was kind of like indigestion but instead of stomach pain, there was a lovely warming feeling.

    Card acquired:

    Frontier Justice

    This card is perfect for putting down outlaws and looking good doing it.

    As the words flashed through his mind and the robotic voice rang out, John smiled from ear to ear.

    This was exactly what he needed.

    Though he didn¡¯t really know what the card was, he instinctively knew how to use it.

    Spinning on his heels as he came to a sudden halt, he dropped Truffle and raised his arms out in front of himself. Two jet black revolvers manifested in his hands.

    The pistols had shimmering, golden runes which ran up the length of the barrels. They were written in a language that was wholly alien to John, but that didn¡¯t matter.

    Rasing his new weapons, he targeted the centre mass of the charging Mecharoo and began squeezing the triggers alternately.

    Ear splitting cracks rang out across the outback as bullets ripped through the fleshy parts of the mechanised kangaroo.

    Blood burst from its back as rounds ripped through flesh, tearing up organs, smashing bone and causing general mayhem inside Mecharoo¡¯s body.

    Yet the beast still charged.

    John fired round after round as the tank tracks continued racing towards him. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead as he shifted his aim upwards.

    If this doesn¡¯t work we¡¯re dead, he thought, taking a deep breath.

    He fired a final shot which ripped through the beast¡¯s forehead as brain matter exploded out of the back of its skull.

    John attempted to make it a double tap just in case, but as he squeezed the trigger again all he heard was the click of the hammer.

    ¡°Shit, out of ammo,¡± he complained as the dead beast rolled to a stop in front of him.

    Wait, how do I reload this thing? He thought looking at his new weapons. The runes had stopped glowing. The cylinders didn¡¯t seem to be hollow and there was no place to insert new rounds. Perhaps the runes controlled the ammunition? It didn¡¯t matter right now; he could figure it out later.

    He tipped his head back and let out a maniacal laugh. He¡¯d survived. He¡¯d killed his first monster and it¡­ it felt pretty damn good.

    Adrenaline pumped through his veins; his heart raced with excitement. Was this what it felt like to fight for one¡¯s life? If so, he should have entered an alien death game years ago. It was exhilarating.

    Then he heard the beeping.

    ¡°John,¡± Truffle said, looking up from the corpse of the Mecharoo with blood on his chin and guilty expression on his face. ¡°I got hungry and you know how I always eat when I¡¯m nervous right? Well, I bit into this thing and there was some metal and now it¡¯s flashing red and making a weird noise.¡±

    John raised a single eyebrow at the pig. There was so much to unpack there, but the beeping was strange and it seemed to be getting faster.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± he said as realisation dawned on him.

    He reached forward to grab Truffle and span on his heels as quickly as he could. The beeping had reached a fevered pitch, momentarily it would be beeping so fast that it was just a continuous noise and that would mean-

    BOOM.

 Chapter 4 â€“ Horns and All

    Gritting his teeth John leaped away from his kill just as the beeping sound reached a crescendo.

    BOOM!

    With an almighty bang, the mech exploded in a cacophony of bolts and metal scraps. The force from the blast pushed John and Truffle through the air as they spun and each grit their teeth.

    John cradled the teacup pig in his arms, attempting to shield him from the blast as they crashed to the desert floor and rolled.

    Doing everything in his power not to bite his tongue, a flash of searing pain ripped through John¡¯s left arm, then a second, slightly less painful, cut shaved his temple and a third ravaged his thigh.

    He laid in the red desert sand for a long moment as a warm liquid seeped from his injured areas. John knew he was bleeding, likely from shrapnel injuries, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to inspect his wounds.

    Not just yet.

    Laying in the sand he spread his1 legs out and moved them slightly in the way that a child does when creating a snow angel.

    Quest Completed:

    First Contact

    Objective:

    Survive the encounter.

    Reward:

    Full recovery OR x10 shards

    The quest. He¡¯d completely forgotten he¡¯d be given one. Full recovery sounded really nice in that particular moment and almost as soon as he had that thought the pain disappeared.

    Sitting up, John quickly checked himself over to find that he was clear of all bruises, cuts, and scrapes. His body was as good as new and from the sheer volume of blood pooling on the sand, that was a very fortunate thing indeed.

    His blue bodysuit was badly ripped all over, but the biggest rips were on the side of his arm and over his thigh. John was pretty sure there was a major artery in the thigh so the quest reward may have just saved his life.

    ¡°That was close,¡± Truffle snorted as he wriggled free of John¡¯s iron grip. He didn¡¯t even realise he was still holding the pig in his arms.

    ¡°What in god¡¯s name were you doing?¡± John demanded, turning on the pig who looked at the floor and backed away slightly.

    ¡°Eating breakfast?¡± He replied quietly, kicking at the sand with his left trotter.

    ¡°That was a mechanical kangaroo thing,¡± John exclaimed incredulously, ¡°how did you even know it was edible?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± he began, ¡°but it tasted a lot better than those pellets you and Miss Anne used to feed me. Speaking of the Mistress, where is she?¡±

    Truffle looked up at John hopefully. Though his new skills prevented him from wallowing in his own pity, John didn¡¯t have the heart to tell the pig what had happened. He might not have been crying in a ditch somewhere, but he still didn¡¯t feel like saying that out loud.

    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ not here,¡± he replied instead.

    ¡°I can see that,¡± Truffle said, looking around as if she might simply be hiding in the sand somewhere. ¡°Well, we better go find her then. We simply can¡¯t leave her alone out here; she hates being alone.¡±

    John nodded and picked himself up off the ground. She did hate being alone. That had been the reason she¡¯d bought Truffle in the first place. John¡¯s long hours at work were starting to get to her and she wanted a companion animal to keep her company. Depression has a funny way of doing that, making the loneliness worse.

    Shaking his head to clear his mind, he raised his hands and willed his new revolvers into being and they materialised in his sweaty palms. As this happened he felt a warm sensation emanating from deep within his solar plexus.

    He had dropped the guns in favour of protecting the pig when the beeping had started and yet here they were, back in his hands.

    Acting on a hunch, he opened his fists and let the pistols clatter to the floor. As he expected, clatter, they did not. The weapons barely made it six inches away from his hands before dematerialising and when he willed them to come back, they appeared in his hands once again.

    ¡°At least I can¡¯t lose them,¡± he murmured, happy with the result of his little experiment.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Next he tried to fire a shot off but no round exited the chamber. As before, there was only the unsatisfying sound of the hammer¡¯s click.

    ¡°Damn, how do I reload?¡± He asked the air in frustration, hoping that the voice in his head that granted him skills might come to his rescue.

    It didn¡¯t. He was going to have to figure this one out on his own.

    Speaking of skills, this system bore a lot of similarities to gaming. A sly smile grew on his lips as he headed back towards the Mecharoo.

    ¡°Why are we going back the way we came?¡± Truffle asked, cocking his head to the side, ¡°are you hungry? I think it might be a bit overcooked, what with the explosion and everything.¡±

    ¡°No, just need to check something,¡± he replied absently as he bent over the destroyed remains of the kangaroo mech.

    The ground where its corpse had fallen was littered with charred flesh, guts, blood, and mechanical parts: gears, screws, and the remains of tank treads. The air stank of cordite and burning rubber and John¡¯s nostrils stung every time he inhaled.

    In a video game you usually clicked on something to loot it but considering that this system seemed to work mostly through thought, John somehow doubted the validity of prodding a piece of charred kangaroo with his finger.

    Instead, he tried picking up one of the gears which stuck out of the nearby sand. He held the piece of metal in his hand but nothing happened. Then he thought the words add to inventory. Still nothing. Loot, collect, pick up. He tried every command he could think of but the gear sat idly in his hands like it was laughing at him.

    Now that he thought about it, he hadn¡¯t even received a notification for killing the mech. Every message that he had received was rather bare bones as well. Did that mean there was no experience points? What a shitty game this is.

    Though a looting system would have been useful, he had to face the reality that, for now at least, there didn¡¯t seem to be one. Dropping the gear to the ground, he sighed and began walking away from the blood-soaked sand.

    ***

    ¡°You were pretty badass with those guns,¡± Truffle said as they trekked across the hazy outback. It was the first time either of them had spoken in a while. John had no idea where they were, but he figured that picking a direction and sticking to it was the best option. Surely they¡¯d come across something eventually.

    John grunted in response; he had spent a brief time in the National Guard where he had been trained how to shoot. Granted, he wasn¡¯t trained on revolvers, but the skill was transferable.

    Joining them was the only way he¡¯d been able to think of to pay for college tuition at the time. He had no desire to make a career out of it, but what¡¯s a few years of service in return for a college education?

    ¡°Do you think all the cards have guns hidden in them?¡± Truffle asked.

    ¡°Probably not.¡±

    ¡°I hope not,¡± Truffle said with a snort, ¡°I want to cast spells or something cool like that, or maybe there¡¯s a card that would let me shoot lasers from my eyes, that would be so awesome.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d settle for an ammo card right about now,¡± John said dryly.

    He still hadn¡¯t been able to figure out how to reload the strange weapons that sat unobtrusively in his solar plexus.

    ¡°Are we nearly there yet?¡± Truffle asked hopefully.

    ¡°Nearly where? There¡¯s nothing around but red sand and heatstroke.¡±

    This went on for a while as they trapsed across the outback¡¯s wasteland. John didn¡¯t have an accurate way to measure time but considering that the sun looked like it was going to set soon, he was pretty certain that they had been walking for at least half a day.

    His mouth was beginning to crack with dryness and as he stared at the tiny fissures in the red rocks below his feet, he began to feel sympathy for them.

    John¡¯s stomach rumbled and he needed water badly but they simply hadn¡¯t seen anything since they¡¯d been attacked.

    The world ends, only for me to die of thirst, he thought dourly, it¡¯s almost funny.

    They walked for a while longer and eventually even Truffle had stopped talking. The temperature was beginning to drop and John was pretty certain that if they didn¡¯t find shelter by the time darkness fell they wouldn¡¯t survive the night.

    After walking all day they had almost reached a large sandstone monolith they had been heading towards. It was red, like everything else in the outback, and it looked like someone had cut the top off a mountain.

    Basically, it was a large red rock with a flat top.

    As they approached the monolith, which was much larger than John had initially realised, he saw a glowing yellow sign imbedded into the rockface.

    Approaching it, he realised that it was a neon sign, the likes of which could be found in any dive bar he¡¯d ever frequented.

    It said: The Outback Sleep Shack and underneath the glowing yellow hue was an iron door built right into the side of the sandstone monolith.

    ¡°This country is so cool,¡± Truffle said, speaking up for the first time in a while, ¡°we never had mountain doors back home¡­ or mountains of any kind really.¡±

    ¡°No we did not,¡± John replied distractedly as he placed his hands on door handle.

    Here goes nothing, he though, attempting to open it. However, it didn¡¯t budge.

    ¡°Is it locked?¡± Truffle asked, ¡°hello, is anyone in there!¡±

    There was no reply, so John raised his fist and tried knocking loudly on the metal exterior. As he pulled his fist back for the third time the door swung inward with an unpleasant creak.

    ¡°Hold your horses I¡¯m coming,¡± a voice called from inside, ¡°jeez, talk about a lack of patience.¡±

    John stared into the abyss that was the opening behind the door. It was pitch black inside and though he could hear the voice, he couldn¡¯t see its owner.

    ¡°Well are you coming in or not?¡± It said irritably, ¡°we haven¡¯t got all day you know? The welcoming address will be starting soon and I really don¡¯t want to miss it.¡±

    Hesitantly, John stepped through the door with Truffle at his heels. It took a moment, but his eyes eventually adjusted to the low light and he realised he was in some kind of diner.

    There was a counter on the back wall with red stools lined up in front of it, booths and tables littered the main area and there was even a toilet in the back with the familiar male and female signs used the world over.

    Did this place exist before? He wondered, furrowing his brow as he looked around the diner which could easily have been scraped off the side of any American highway.

    ¡°Woah!¡± Truffle exhaled in excited shock as John turned towards the sound. ¡°I thought dinosaurs were extinct.¡±

    John followed his gazed and immediately drew his pistols as his eyes landed on the creature. His revolvers weren¡¯t loaded, so it was a pretty useless gesture, but the dinosaur didn¡¯t know that so he drew them anyway.

    Standing behind the door at approximately five feet tall was an unassumingly small bipedal humanoid creature. It dressed in white shirt, completed with braces and rolled up sleeves. It even wore a black fedora like it was the 1950¡¯s.

    Everything about it seemed distinctly normal, if a little outdated, with the single exception of its head. It had the head of a triceratops, horns, and all.

 Chapter 5 â€“ Buck and Doe

    ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± John commanded as he traced the outline of the triceratops¡¯ lettuce leaf shaped head with his revolvers. They weren¡¯t loaded, he had no clue how to reload them, but the dinosaur in the corner didn¡¯t know that.

    ¡°I was warned humans would be violent, but to threaten someone in their own home¡­ does your species have no shame?¡± The triceratops creature said, shaking its head like a disappointed parent.

    ¡°Maybe you should put the guns down boss?¡± Truffle said innocently.

    Boss? John thought, furrowing his brow, since when did he call me that? Then again, I only found out he could talk earlier today. Maybe he¡¯s always called me that in his own mind.

    ¡°If it really is a triceratops¡­ person, then it¡¯s probably a vegan.¡± Truffle explained diplomatically.

    ¡°God damned baby orc,¡± The triceratops growled, ¡°call me an it one more time and I¡¯ll¡­¡± its words trailed off as it seemed to struggle to search for an adequate threat.

    John ignored the outburst, keeping his revolvers trained on it all the same, and turned back to Truffle.

    ¡°How did you know that triceratops were herbivores?¡± He asked incredulously.

    ¡°Miss Anne used to leave the Discovery channel on for me when she went out,¡± he replied proudly, ¡°she thought I¡¯d enjoy watching other animals on the T.V. She was right! It was very entertaining.¡±

    With his question answered, John turned back to his new acquaintance whose arms were beginning to tremble. With a pained sigh, he returned his revolvers to his solar plexus.

    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he began, slowly rubbing the back of his neck, ¡°but don¡¯t try anything funny, I can summon these guns in an instant and put a bullet between your eyes from twice the distance of this room.¡±

    ¡°How charismatic,¡± the dinosaur grumbled, ¡°the first day is always the hardest.¡± It said, pulling up a stool and turning towards a large screen that stretched the length of the wall. It showed the diner¡¯s menu in a typical takeaway sign style.

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly not been normal,¡± John replied, pulling up his own stool a few spaces down. He was still weary of the odd creature and didn¡¯t want to let his guard down around it. At least not completely.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name human?¡± It asked.

    ¡°John, how about you?¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be able to pronounce my true name if I told it to you, too many syllables for a species with such an undeveloped linguistical system,¡± it replied matter-of-factly. ¡°The Council has given me the name Buck for the purposes of this season of Battle Royale though, so I guess you can call me that.¡±

    Huh, John thought, Buck and Doe, sounds like an 80¡¯s detective show.

    John was about to reply when the takeaway menu screen flickered and came to life. Weird music blared out; it sounded orchestral but kind of electronic at the same time.

    Chairman Tanlan appeared on the screen, the green glow of his head casting an eerie light around the diner. This time when he spoke it came through the TV screen instead of blasting directly into John¡¯s mind.

    ¡°I offer welcome to both contestants and viewers alike, for this season¡¯s day one address.¡± He said, voice booming and creating an odd static which blared through the speakers. ¡°I will start by explaining this season¡¯s rules for those of you watching at home.¡±

    The screen flickered once more and Tanlan¡¯s visage was replaced by a rotating globe. An animation began to play showing small, purple torii gates popping up all across the planet.

    ¡°This season of Battle Royale takes place on a small planet in the Milkey Way named Earth.¡± Tanlan continued, presumably for the benefit of the viewers. John had to assume that these were the occupants of the armada of spaceships he had seen from his pod. ¡°Earth is a warring planet inhabited by a race called humans.

    ¡°This is a type of sapient ape which has evolved to the stage of possessing rudimentary technology and cognitive development. Earth has been plagued by many wars in the last few centuries and I fully expect their violent tendencies to be most entertaining.

    ¡°Despite their uneducated beliefs, Earth has many natural resources left to be mined and used to benefit the wider galaxy. Thus, The Council has decided to make use of this in the most diplomatic, and entertaining, way possible. Through the use of the Inter-Planetary System games!¡±

    The image of Earth cracked open into weird quadrants with lines and text boxes pointing to various parts of the planet¡¯s crust.

    John couldn¡¯t read the language used in the boxes, but he had to assume it had something to do with the natural resources Tanlan had mentioned.

    ¡°The representatives of the Council sanctioned races will be allowed to bid on as many contestants as they like. If your contestant wins then your corporation will be given the mining rights to the planet.

    ¡°Of course, as in every season, the general public will be able to vote on quests and story lines and the like. Level one will only be open to preliminary beta testing and therefore voting will be limited.

    ¡°As for the contestants, you have ten days to find a torii gate and go through it. They must collect four cards to be eligible to step through the gate. There will be plenty of¡­ opportunities to collect cards.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°It is my sincere hope that we have a great, entertaining season ahead of us. Viewers, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. Contestants, get out there and CULL THE MASSES!¡±

    Clutching his head as the migraine inducing noise from the final words reverberated across the diner, John decided that Tanlan¡¯s catchphrase was going to get real old, real fast.

    The screen flickered once more and Chairman Tanlan was replaced by what appeared to be a newsroom. The Earth was rotating in the background, in the foreground was a metal desk with two aliens sat at it.

    Are they news anchors? John thought.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that address just splendid?¡± An alien that resembled a giant praying mantis wearing a brown suit said. ¡°I swear his speeches get better every season.¡±

    ¡°System good, new season entertaining,¡± a giant green pig nodded in agreement. It looked just like an orc from any fantasy game John had ever played.

    It had a large green head, tusks and¡­ makeup? The orc was caked in pink blush and scarlet lipstick. It even had eyeliner on and purple eyeshadow.

    Now that¡¯s something you don¡¯t see every day, John thought to himself, she kinda reminds me of my great aunt Susan¡­ on second thought, that might be a little offensive to the orc.

    ¡°Our opening show of the season is going to be a long one folks,¡± the praying mantis continued. ¡°So sit back and enjoy the ride, the contestants this year are really something.¡±

    The screen flashed again and turned to grey static. The word: redacted, appeared in front of it.

    ¡°God damn it!¡± Buck huffed, pounding his fist on the counter, ¡°I get why they redact it for you, but surely I should get to see the highlights? Blasted Council, always finding ways to make me miserable.¡±

    ¡°Are you ok Mr Dinosaur?¡± Truffle asked, trotting up to the triceratops man.

    ¡°Call me Buck, and no I¡¯m not ok. I¡¯m stuck on this godforsaken rock, bored out of my skull and now I can¡¯t even watch the highlights.¡± He took a deep breath and his body visibly deflated.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± John asked tentatively.

    ¡°To operate this safe room, keep you from dying of starvation and to act as a preliminary guide to the game.¡± He replied in a practiced, corporate voice, ¡°In other words, I am the property of The Council and my indenture contract states that I have to stay planet side. That¡¯s all there is too it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Miss Anne¡¯s property, but she¡¯s a lot nicer than your Council,¡± Truffle said merrily.

    Buck shot him a scowl and then looked to John inquisitively. He shrugged, showing open palms.

    ¡°So you¡¯re a game guide then?¡± John asked.

    ¡°Kinda,¡± Buck replied, ¡°I do a lot of things, and the game changes every season. I can give you some general information but you¡¯ll have to work most things out for yourself.¡±

    ¡°How do I win?¡± John said, leaning closer to the triceratops, a darkness gleaming in his eyes.

    ¡°Win? Ha!¡± Buck replied jovially, ¡°buddy you¡¯ve got no chance. Just do the maths, you¡¯ll have to wipe out the whole world. Nobody can do that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a battle royale isn¡¯t it?¡± John asked, shuffling closer, ¡°someone has to win, so it might as well be me.¡±

    Truffle hopped from one hoof to the other uncomfortably, eyeing something on the other side of the counter.

    ¡°Boss?¡± He asked, looking up at John through his disproportionately large eyes.

    John looked at him questioningly and Buck turned to follow his line of sight.

    ¡°Hungry are you?¡± Buck said, ¡°hold on, I¡¯ll get you something.¡±

    Standing up with a groan as he pushed off the countertop, Buck limped behind the counter. John heard a few beeps, like the sound microwave buttons make, then the triceratops reappeared with a bowl of¡­ something, and a plate with a burger on it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I mushed it up for him first,¡± Buck said, placing the bowl down in front of Truffle, but addressing John.

    ¡°¡­ Thank you?¡± He replied uncertainly.

    ¡°Baby orcs can¡¯t digest whole food.¡± Buck explained, ¡°I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d have known that if you¡¯re travelling with him.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not an orc, he¡¯s a teacup pig,¡± John replied casually before taking a bite of his burger. His mouth was cracked and painful from a day of walking in the desert without a drink, he didn¡¯t care though, his hunger pains were worse. ¡°Anyway, are you going to tell me how to win this thing or what?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what I don¡¯t know,¡± Buck shrugged, ¡°but if I had to guess, you need two things to win. You need to get a good deck of cards and you need a top tier conglomerate to bid on you.¡±

    ¡°What makes a deck good?¡± John asked between bites and pointed towards a sink behind the countertop. Buck noticed and filled a glass of water, placing it next to the burger.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say really, there aren¡¯t many bad cards but it¡¯s how you combine them that decides if a deck is good or not,¡± Buck said ponderously. ¡°Take your gun card for example: combine that with a card that makes ammo explosive and you¡¯ll be pretty damn powerful. However, if you add a card to your deck that makes you hit harder that might become a weakness later down the line if your power set is spread too thinly. If I had to put it all into one word it¡¯d be: specificity.¡±

    John sat back, taking a long gulp of water, and thought about that. It made sense to him that the logical approach to deck building in this game would be to gather cards that enhance the abilities of one single card. It was kinda like min-maxing in a video game. The only issue would be that without a party he¡¯d be unable to cover his own weaknesses that way.

    For example, if he made his Frontier Justice card the main focus of the deck then he¡¯d want to try and find cards that made his guns work better¡­ assuming that cards like that even existed, and that he could find them before the gate closed. That¡¯d likely leave him without healing abilities though. Maybe he could convince Truffle to be a utility salve for him?

    He also wondered about Tanlan¡¯s advice on killing people. He¡¯d said it was highly advisable. Did that mean he¡¯d unlock new abilities if he did it? Maybe that was how he could get loot since he couldn¡¯t loot the Mecharoo earlier. John was a man of action and he¡¯d do what he needed to in order to survive, but he took no pleasure in the idea of killing people.

    Unless he happened to run into that damned cop. If John was lucky enough to be on the same continent as that guy, he¡¯d have no problem with killing him.

    The screen flickered once more, rousing John from his thoughts and the presenters were still in the middle of their highlights segment which appeared to have been explaining how the first round worked. No wonder they wouldn¡¯t let us watch it.

    Buck turned to watch, as did John and Truffle.

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that exciting, folks?¡± The praying mantis asked the camera.

    ¡°Humans violent,¡± the orc added, ¡°this season fun already.¡±

    ¡°Indeed it is my linguistically challenged friend, indeed it is.¡± The mantis replied, ¡°that¡¯s just about all we¡¯ve got time for, but before we go, let me impart some wisdom for the contestants out there watching: if you want to survive you¡¯ve gotta be interesting!¡±

    ¡°And you got to kill things,¡± the orc added with a self-satisfied nod as if it had just shared some profound insight.

    ¡°Stay tuned for the after-show folks,¡± the praying mantis continued, ¡°and don¡¯t forget to¡­¡± He opened his arms and the audience, which John couldn¡¯t see but assumed was there just off screen, all shouted in unison: ¡°CULL THE MASSES.¡±

    ¡°What kind of catch phrase is that?¡± John complained as the sign went back to its regularly scheduled program of burgers, fries, and carbonated beverages.

    That was when his vision started to go fuzzy and the world began to spin. He felt himself fall from his stool to the ground.

    ¡°Sorry kid,¡± he heard Buck say from somewhere in the distance, ¡°your chances of winning this thing just plummeted.¡±

 Chapter 6 â€“ The Gauntlet

    John¡¯s head pounded like a kick drum. His body ached and his mouth was dry once more. He felt a pulsating sickness deep in his gut and his head swam with nausea.

    Opening his eyes he forced himself to sit up. He felt around his body but there was no external pain and his bodysuit was still intact, negating his worry of having been probed.

    Wherever he was, it was dark and the floor was hard and bumpy. Staggering to his feet and resisting the urge to vomit, John moved around but struggled to ascertain where he was.

    It seems our last contestant is awake! An overly jovial voice said from the darkness, it sounded as if it was transmitting both from a PA speaker and directly into my mind. Contestant, are you ready to run the gauntlet?

    As soon as the question was posed lights flickered on. momentarily blinding John who raised his hand to his brow in a vain attempt to shield his retina.

    Circus music began to play and flickering, multi-coloured lights flashed all around him. A glowing red arrow sign pulsated against what seemed to be a cave wall, pointing him towards an entrance painted like a kaleidoscope.

    ¡°Where am I?¡± He asked the voice dazedly.

    You¡¯re in the gauntlet! What is the gauntlet, I hear you ask? The gauntlet is a new game that has been devised for Battle Royale: Earth. The rules are simple: reach the end and don¡¯t die and you¡¯ll get rewarded.

    ¡°Oh¡­ great,¡± John replied as he took in his surroundings, ¡°where¡¯s Truffle?¡±

    The baby orc was not selected to compete in this game, The voice replied matter-of-factly. Are you ready to take on the gauntlet?

    John was far from ready. He was pretty sure he was suffering from a mild concussion and he hated the circus. Clowns were creepy, and the underground vibe of this gauntlet game gave him serious IT vibes.

    ¡°Do I have a choice?¡± He asked the voice.

    There¡¯s always a choice, contestant. You could choose not to participate in the gauntlet. Of course the only way out of here is by winning, so if you decide not to take part you will effectively be choosing to die of starvation.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ so much choice,¡± John replied facetiously. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll run your gauntlet.¡±

    Fantastic! The voice said excitedly, please take the kaleido-slide-o when you¡¯re ready, and remember, the entire universe is watching.

    New Quest:

    The Gauntlet

    Objective:

    Survive the gauntlet and reach the end.

    With a heavy sigh, John strode towards the kaleido-slide-o and gripped the iron bar that was bolted atop the entrance.

    As he stared into the abyss, he felt his stomach attempt a daring somersault that was part fear, part anxiety, and part¡­ excitement?

    This reward better be worth it, he thought, I could really use another card¡­ or some more appropriate clothing. I look like the world¡¯s worst superhero in this stupid bodysuit.

    With reckless abandon, he resigned himself to his fate and threw himself into the void. It felt like a slide at a kid¡¯s park, except the interior was painted in that trippy, circus-like kaleidoscopic style. It was glowing and John felt like he¡¯d just smoked a joint in a Seth Rogen movie.

    His body twisted from side to side as he slid down the death pipe and then shot out of the end. The world seemed to slow down as his body hurtled out of the slide¡¯s exit. Looking around, he saw that at the end of the ride was a pit full of spikes.

    Thinking that it seemed like a bit of an underhanded tactic, John reached out and spun in midair, forcing his body to move to the side by throwing his arms around himself in a twisting circle and narrowly avoiding the spikes.

    In his mind, it was an epic move on par with a stunt from The Matrix. However, this was far from the truth as John more closely resembled a cat who had been startled by the sudden appearance of a cucumber. Still, he was alive and he still had the correct number of holes, so he called it a win.

    ¡°What kind of cowardly bullshit was that?¡± He shouted into the empty hallway, gesturing at the spike pit.

    However, as he looked at the place that nearly spelled his demise, he froze. The spikes were covered in blood and three corpses were impaled on them, guts and viscera hanging out of their mutilated bodies which were barely held together by ripped, blue bodysuits.

    That could have been me, he thought with a gulp as he stared at the dead contestants.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    The jovial voice had told him that he was the final contestant. Just how many victims had this game claimed already?

    Shaking his head and clenching his fists, he picked himself up off the ground and started walking in the only direction available to him: forward.

    John was certain that he was underground. The walls arounds him seemed very cave-like and the rough, rocky ground further confirmed his suspicions.

    When had The Council had the time to build this elaborate death trap? Was it possible that they had been secretly preparing the planet for this game show for years, or were they simply fast workers? Maybe he¡¯d ask them if he ever got to meet a member, assuming they could still talk after he beat them senseless.

    John still wasn¡¯t overly sure who this council were. From what Buck had said, and from what he could infer from Tanlan¡¯s announcement, they ran the Battle Royale game that he was stuck in. But that was the extent of his knowledge.

    Buck¡­ He thought, gritting his teeth as he marched through the cave, when I get out of here I¡¯m putting a bullet right between that dino-fuck¡¯s eyes.

    John didn¡¯t have long with his thoughts before he came across the next death trap.

    The cave path turned into a steep incline; a small wooden sign sat at the bottom which read: Grenade Cavalcade.

    Reading the sign and shrugging to himself, John began the steep climb to the top. The word grenade had him on guard, but he¡¯d look around and couldn¡¯t spot anything out of the ordinary.

    Not like I have a choice.

    He started walking up the steep path and soon devolved into climbing on his hands and knees using natural hand holds as leverage.

    Something sticky and wet clung to his fingers as he gripped a grove in the rock. Pulling his hand to his face, he grimaced as he realised that it was blood.

    Had someone been injured here? ¡­ Or even killed?

    That was when the pin dropped.

    John heard a clink as something shinny caught the corner of his eyes. He turned towards it and gasped. A fragmentation grenade began rolling down the hill towards him, bouncing off the uneven ground.

    Diving to one side, John threw his arms over his head in a panic as an explosion rocked the landscape and threw dirt and stone over him.

    Glancing to the side, he saw a fractured skull with tufts of hair and a loose eyeball hanging from it. Someone had died here and the force from the grenades had ripped their body into bits. John turned away and began scrambling up the hill as fast as he could.

    Clink.

    Clink.

    Clink.

    His heart skipped a beat at the sound and he looked up to see three more frags bouncing towards him.

    ¡°Come on!¡± He yelled in frustration as he threw himself up the slope.

    There was no way that he could avoid them all, so in a mad panic, John rushed towards the closest grenade and kicked it as hard as he could. It flew back the way it came and John ducked once more, covering his head just as the three blasts went off in quick succession.

    The terrain was getting harder and harder to navigate as the frags blew chunks out of the rock, but John gritted his teeth and pushed through it anyway.

    He was almost at the top when he heard a cacophony of clinks as more grenade pins dropped to the floor and a part of the roof gave way.

    John looked up just in time to see a swarm of frags raining down around him. His eyes bulged and his heart jumped into his chest as he scrambled up the last section of the hill.

    The grenades fell all around him and he knew he only had a few seconds, if he was lucky, before his insides painted the cave red. Back in basic training, when he was a National Guard, John was taught that a grenade had a four to five second delay. Of course, that was nearly a decade ago, he¡¯d only finished his eight years of service in 2022. Assuming these were similar, that was how long he had left to live if he didn¡¯t do something fast.

    Throwing caution to the wind he dived over the lip of the hill and rolled down the other side. At the top there was a slight dip which he hoped would provide him with some protection. His bodysuit ripped and his skin was cut and grazed as he rolled away, but that pain was better than the imminent death that blocked his retreat.

    BOOM!

    A myriad of explosions went off behind him as dirt, rock and shrapnel flew all around him. The air was thick with the smell of cordite and, though bruised and battered, he was alive.

    After a moment of panting, John picked himself up off the ground and carried on down the tunnel, except now he had options.

    Before him stood three paths, each with their own picket sign staked into the ground. They said: The Mime Field, Whowie¡¯s Big Top, and The Live Wire.

    They¡¯re all circus themed, John noticed as he read through the three signs with their three separate paths. Then the jovial voice came back.

    You have three choices before you. You can only pick one, and each comes with a unique prize¡­ assuming you survive.

    ¡°Which prize is the best?¡± John asked the voice.

    Why, the prize you get for winning the main event of course, it replied, and then the voice faded away.

    The main event? John thought.

    With the gauntlet having a strong circus theme, there was only one option: the big top. That was where the lion tamers usually did their show. The ringmaster was usually the circus leader, at least to the best of John¡¯s knowledge, which was heavily influenced by TV shows.

    Not one to second guess himself, John chose the middle path with a shrug.

    He walked for a short while up a steep, winding path until he came across a huge circus tent which blocked his path. Pinstriped in white and red, it was the exact same big top that children the world over had dreamed of visiting at some time or another.

    Every child that is, apart from John. He hated clowns.

    Stuck into the ground in front of the tent was a small wooden sign which said: Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Entertain.

    Unsure of whether the sign had butchered the Dante quote on purpose or not, John sighed before cautiously lifting the tent flap and stepping inside.

    Slow, pulsating circus music thudded quietly as John walked through the tent. The interior was exactly what one would expect, tiered seating lined the outer area whilst a high wire and various gymnastics apparatus were set up in the middle.

    As John approached the centre of the big top, the tense and creepy music got louder.

    Why does this feel like the build up to a mini boss? John wondered as he cautiously scanned the empty tent.

    ¡­ And now! The jovial voice from before rang out around the tent as bright spotlights began dancing around the dark tent interior, the moment you¡¯ve all been waiting for. In this corner, weighing in at 185 pounds and looking like he¡¯d rather be anywhere else but here, it¡¯s our Earth contestant¡­ John Doe!

    A deafening cacophony of cheers and screams erupted from all around the room. John turned suddenly at the sound and saw people¡­ or rather a myriad of aliens, sitting in the stands which circled the tent.

    And in this corner weighing in at 642 pounds and stretching a whopping 23 and a half feet long, it¡¯s the undefeated champion of the big top, the amphibian that¡¯ll beat you into oblivion, it¡¯s the one, the only: WHOWIE!

    The crowd went wild, screaming, stamping, and clapping as the ground began to vibrate. Loud, ominous thuds filled the tent as John looked directly across at his kaiju of an opponent.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna need a bigger gun,¡± he said with a gulp.

 Chapter 7 â€“ The Whowie

    John dived to the side as a gigantic pink tongue shot from the Whowie¡¯s mouth like a rocket. The earth exploded where he had just been stood and a crater was left there as dirt rained down around him. The audience cheered wildly.

    Rolling to the side and jumping to his feet, John stared helplessly at his opponent. The Whowie was a massive lizard with a frog¡¯s head. It had six oversized legs that didn¡¯t seem like they belonged on its body. Muscles rippled from underneath its dark green skin and purple veins popped out as it moved.

    Raising his hands, John summoned his revolvers and squeezed both triggers.

    Click. Click.

    The hammer struck but no round was expelled from the chamber. John looked at the guns in frustration, why wouldn¡¯t they fire? How the hell was he supposed to reload them?

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± A familiar voice shouted from the seating, ¡°shoot the damned thing!¡±

    Turning towards the sound, John¡¯s temper flared as his eyes rested on Buck, who was sitting on the front row. Truffle was sat on his lap and cheering enthusiastically.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to reload!¡± He shouted back, seriously considering pausing the fight to break the triceratops¡¯ jaw.

    ¡°Twist the cylinder!¡± Buck called back.

    John had already tried to remove the cylinder. That was one of the first things he had done. He knew how a revolver was supposed to work, he wasn¡¯t an idiot.

    Still, with so few options, he did as he was instructed and twisted the cylinder of the black metal weapon. Gold runes lit up all along the barrel and the same thing happened to the second gun as he repeated the process.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± He muttered.

    He remembered that the guns did have golden runes on them when he¡¯d first drawn them from the card, but why would twisting the barrel turn them on and off? Was it a safety feature? He¡¯d have to ask Buck after the battle, assuming he survived, and assuming that Buck could still talk after John beat him senseless.

    With a wild grin splitting his face, John turned back to his opponent. It was about time he got in this fight. He raised his dual pistols¡­ but there was nothing there.

    Looking wildly around the tent, he could see hide nor hair of the scaled homunculus.

    Our challenger seems a little bewildered folks! The jovial voice rang out to the laughter of the audience, oh where, oh where could the Whowie be¡­ perhaps it¡¯s BEHIND YOU!

    John jumped, twisting around as the loud voice cackled both in his mind and through, what he assumed was, some kind of PA speaker. Of course, the Whowie was still nowhere in sight and John¡¯s face flushed scarlet with anger and embarrassment as the audience laughed at his reaction.

    He tried to keep them out of his mind. They were obviously cruel aliens to enjoy this farcical spectacle. Maybe he¡¯d shoot a few of them later.

    WHOOSH.

    Air blasted past John¡¯s ear and he dived away from it on instinct, turning back just in time to see the air ripple as something warped the space where he had just been standing.

    Did the Whowie have some kind of invisibility? Following the rippling wind, John fired a bullet in the direction he believed it came from and a feral scream rocked the tent.

    Got ya, he thought as he raised his second revolver and unloaded alternate rounds from both weapons at the spot where his first bullet had struck.

    The crowd cheered for him, but after the first couple of bullets struck, the next few ripped through the edge of the tent.

    His invisible enemy had moved.

    ¡°Look out boss!¡± Truffle shouted from the stands, but John reacted too slowly as something heavy forced him to the ground.

    He felt his ribcage crack as the Whowie¡¯s invisibility faded and, to John¡¯s horror, he was trapped underneath one of its enormous, muscular legs.

    The air had been squeezed from his lungs and he struggled to breath under the crushing weight of the kaiju. Still, he had to try something or else it was all over. He needed to survive; Anne had told him to win and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to die on the first day. How pathetic would that be?

    John¡¯s left arm was trapped underneath the giant webbed foot, but his right arm was free, even if it did hurt like hell.

    He lifted it and began firing his pistol as fast as he could. The Whowie screamed as purple blood splatted from the underside of its belly, painting John in its glowing fluids.

    The smell was atrocious.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Nostrils burning, he continued to fire until the beast retreated, and he breathed in deeply as the weight lifted from his chest.

    Breathing in, though necessary, was not pleasant. John¡¯s ribs must have broken from the initial hit and each breath caused a sharp pain to resonate within his torso.

    Stumbling to his feet, he noticed that his left arm wouldn¡¯t move properly. It was dislocated at the shoulder.

    John needed the use of both of his arms.

    Acting on instinct more than with rational thought, John ran, shoulder first, into the wall which separated the stands from the pit. He¡¯d seen it plenty of times in movies. Some juiced up, action hero would ram his arm into a wall to fix a dislocation.

    However, in lieu of a miraculous, Hollywood-style recovery, John screamed.

    It turned out that action hero logic wasn¡¯t always true, who¡¯d have thought? He felt a nasty, grating click and he could move his arm a little bit better. However, the trade-off of severe pain and possible lasting damage probably wasn¡¯t worth the limited movement he gained. That would have to be a problem for future John though.

    Gritting his teeth, he began searching for the Whowie once more. He needed to end this charade so he could work on healing himself without the threat of imminent death.

    The kaiju had turned invisible once again and John lost sight of it. The monster had every possible advantage over him. It was big, it was strong, and it could turn invisible. The perfect apex predator.

    There was just one thing that John had that the beast didn¡¯t: the ability to think critically. He knew that he¡¯d shot the Whowie multiple times so far and that it was bleeding ¨C his skin was a testament to that.

    So, he looked to the floor and found the purple trail of blood leading away from the ground he¡¯d been stomped into. He followed the blood with his eyes until he found a growing pool of the stuff in the far corner of the tent.

    That was where he aimed his revolver as he began firing at the location.

    The Whowie screamed once more, it was high pitched and feral. John¡¯s ears pounded with the pain of the loud noise and the crowd cheered enthusiastically at it.

    Those sadistic bastards, he thought as he continued firing at the spot.

    Just like before, his bullets began ripping through the tent, but this time John was ready.

    Searching the ground quickly and diligently, he saw a dripping trail of blood and followed it. The Whowie seemed to panic as it began zigzagging and jumping around, but John did not let up.

    No matter where the beast went, his bullets followed. It almost felt too easy as he fired round after round from pistols that never seemed to run out of ammo.

    This Frontier Justice card is awesome! He thought as he continued shooting the kaiju.

    Blood gushed from its many wounds as John continued to fire round after round at the beast. It had to die sometime soon, it was more hole than body by now, at least that was what he surmised from the amount of purple blood that gushed from its body like an open faucet.

    WHACK.

    Something soft and wet collided with John, forcing him off his feet. He dropped his guns and they returned to the card inside his solar plexus.

    Attempting to sit up, John realised that he was wrapped in the soft, fleshy thing. It had to be the Whowie¡¯s tongue. It had lashed out with it a few times before, but this was the first time it actually made contact.

    John suppressed the urge to scream as the sticky tongue squeezed his chest, crushing his already broken ribs. He was wrapped up like Cleopatra in a fancy carpet, and then he began to move.

    His body was lifted from the floor and he flew through the air as the invisible tongue shot back into the kaiju¡¯s mouth. Everything went dark as his body was sucked down the beast¡¯s gullet.

    The warm stench inside the Whowie was suffocating and it smelled like rotted meat and vomit from the end of a boozy night out. He gagged, but at least the crushing pressure on his ribs had subsided. John couldn¡¯t see anything, and as he forced himself into a sitting position he hit his head on something gooey.

    Gross! He thought, trying hard to keep his mouth closed as the sticky, wet, interior liquid dripped all around him.

    He placed his hand on the floor of whatever part of the beast he was in, the stomach maybe? However, he had to pull it away quickly as his skin began to sizzle.

    Stomach acid burned through his bodysuit and began breaking down his skin. His flesh burned, turning red, and the smell was just awful.

    Thrusting his good arm out, he summoned his revolver again and began blasting rounds at the Whowie from the inside.

    I am not going to die like this!

    He fired round after round into the darkness until he heard a thundering sound coming from further within the seven-meter-long kaiju.

    Oh no, he thought, realising what was about to happen just as stomach acid, vomit and bile crashed into him. He was forced out of the stomach region as he held his breath and hoped it would all be over soon.

    He¡¯d never wondered what it felt like to be flushed down a toilet, but now he knew. His body banged and battered against the inside of the Whowie as he was flushed away with the current of stinking, burning liquid.

    Then, for a moment, he felt weightless as he was projectile vomited out of the beast¡¯s mouth, flying through the air.

    The crowd cheered with even more gusto than before as the soaked human was launched across the circus tent and into the stands.

    ¡°Oh my, that stench is utterly atrocious!¡± A fat, Jabba The Hut-looking alien cried as he crash landed into a wooden bench in the mid-section of the stands.

    ¡°You¡¯re not allowed in the stands plebian!¡± Someone else yelled at him as he tried to regain his focus. His eyes saw stars which marred his vision as his broken body struggled to do what his brain commanded. He attempted to pistol whip the rude fuck but his arm slid straight through it like there was nothing there. The image distorted for a moment before settling.

    Holograms?

    It looks like our contestant wants to take a selfie with the audience. I¡¯m sorry contestant, but you still have a Whowie to fight!

    Sitting on the floor of the stands as alien holograms moved away from him in a disgusted manner, John rubbed his head before a purple light enveloped him and suddenly he was sitting in the middle of the pit once again.

    The Whowie stood above him, bleeding heavily and looking extremely angry.

    Skill Unlocked:

    Locate Weakness

    ¡°Fuck this!¡± John shouted, anger rising through him as the events of the past few minutes caused his blood pressure to rise.

    Pulling out both pistols, even though his left arm could barely move, he blasted the homunculus repeatedly in the face. It was as if suddenly he knew exactly where to aim to cause maximum damage.

    Using his right-hand weapon, he aimed for its eyes and one after the other they burst from within their sockets, covering him in clear goop.

    He didn¡¯t stop there though, he pulled the triggers again and again until the Whowie¡¯s face was nothing but a bloody, pulpy mess of broken skull and ravaged skin.

    Then, when the beast finally fell to the ground defeated, he stood up gingerly and raised his good arm at the crowd, levelling his revolver at Buck.

 Chapter 8 - Ratings

    ¡°Woah, calm down,¡± Buck said, raising his scaley hands above his head as audience members began to flee the stands for no apparent reason. John was uncertain if these were even real alien holograms or simply a garish feature of the big top. Not that it really mattered.

    He levelled the revolver calmly at the triceratops motherfucker who had forced him into this god-awful situation.

    Breathing heavily, as his skin burned with the remnants of the Whowie¡¯s stomach acid, John began to squeeze the trigger.

    Now, now contestant, the jovial announcer¡¯s voice chimed around the tent causing John to loosen his grip slightly. Attacking council employees is against the rules.

    ¡°Fuck your rules!¡± He shouted, anger welling up inside of him. The annoyingly chipper voice of the cruel announcer did not help the situation. ¡°This guy knocked me out and threw me into the gauntlet to die. I deserve revenge.¡±

    ¡°Please John,¡± Buck pleaded, crouching down in the stands and trying to make himself smaller. ¡°I was just doing my job¡­ and you won! You¡¯ll get a reward for this, not to mention the airtime.¡± He was rambling, trying desperately to save his scaley hide, and John knew it. His cowardice served to annoy John even more as he gritted his teeth and further squeezed his finger on the trigger.

    As he looked the dinosaur dead in the eyes, his own vision began to crackle and fade. The adrenaline from the battle was leaving his body and his outstretched arm began to shake as he felt every injury he had sustained.

    It was agonising, and as his vision spotted, he suddenly found that he was looking up at the roof of the pinstriped tent. He heard a gunshot echo throughout the tent and the shrill screams which followed.

    A notification filled his vision, but even that was shaky.

    Quest Complete:

    The Gauntlet

    Objective:

    Survive the gauntlet and reach the end.

    Reward:

    <ul>

    <li> Full Recovery</li>

    <li> X100 Shards</li>

    </ul>

    Do you want to accept all rewards now?

    Y/N

    John mentally asserted yes just as his conscious faded out and the world turned black.

    ***

    Sitting up groggily, John opened his sticky eyelids and blinked rapidly at the bright light surrounding him. He appeared to be sat on a small bed inside a bedroom the size of a closet.

    He was stark naked, covered only by a thin sheet, but he felt weirdly alright. Pressing his hand up against his chest, he felt no pain and saw no bruises.

    Lifting his left arm, he realised that it was no longer dislocated. He vaguely remembered completing a quest and accepting the rewards for it, but he was badly injured, angry, and his mind was on the fritz when it happened. Needless to say, the memory was hazy at best.

    Standing up shakily, he wrapped the sheet around his waist and opened the thin wooden door, finding himself in familiar surroundings.

    The door opened into a short corridor which led into the same diner he¡¯d been abducted from earlier: The Outback Sleep Shack.

    Buck stood behind the counter polishing glasses with a dirty rag whilst chatting idly with Truffle. They both turned to look at the semi-naked human as he stepped cautiously into the diner.

    ¡°Good morning sleepy head,¡± Truffle called, ¡°are you feeling better now?¡±

    John nodded once, refusing to take his eyes away from the squirming triceratops.

    ¡°Listen, I know we got off to a bad start but hear me out ok?¡± Buck said cautiously as John folded his arms and raised a single eyebrow. ¡°I wasn¡¯t entirely truthful when I explained my role to you before. I do run this diner and I can answer questions about the game, but there is no such thing as a safe room and I¡¯m also charged with sending contestants into various dungeons, games and other contests. It¡¯s part of my contract with the council. I¡¯m indentured to them and if I don¡¯t fulfil my obligations I¡¯ll be killed.¡±

    John kept his arms folded as he considered the dinosaur¡¯s hurried and desperate reply. It seemed closer to the truth, though that didn¡¯t rid John of his scepticism. He¡¯d been lied to once already and it could easily happen again. He simply didn¡¯t know enough about this game or the council to be sure.

    ¡°Even if that¡¯s true, I nearly died because of you,¡± he replied. ¡°What¡¯s to stop me from painting this diner with your brains right now?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ Assuming you value your life, there¡¯s the fact that murdering council employees comes with the extermination penalty.¡±

    John eyed the sketchy triceratops harshly. After a long, awkward moment, he sighed and took a seat on one of the red-cushioned bar stools in front of the counter.

    ¡°I¡¯ll believe you¡­ for now,¡± he began, purposefully refusing to take his eyes away from Buck¡¯s scaley face. ¡°However, if you cross me again I will put a bullet in you, consequences be damned.¡±

    Buck swallowed hard, a thin bead of sweat cresting his brow as he nodded slowly.

    ¡°Boss will put a hole in your head like he did in that tent before he fainted!¡± Truffle chimed in, looking to John and nodding his head once.

    Nice try buddy, John thought with a sigh.

    ¡°Y-you have my word that this won¡¯t happen again,¡± Buck stammered.

    John wasn¡¯t so certain. Surely a council employee charged with such a dangerous task would have means of protecting themselves against contestants like him.

    For now though, he¡¯d take him at his word and keep an eye on him at the same time. That should prevent any more unforeseen circumstances.

    ¡°Ok, just no more Rohypnol in the food. Got it?¡± Buck nodded frantically and John continued, placing both elbows on the counter and leaning forward slightly. ¡°I¡¯m also going to need you to explain a few things for me. To start with, how do I get more cards.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes you can find cards in the wild, but there are only two surefire ways to acquire cards: win challenges or purchase them at the kiosk.¡± Buck replied.

    ¡°What¡¯s a kiosk?¡±

    ¡°We have one right here, it¡¯s over in that corner,¡± Buck said, gesturing towards something resembling an ATM machine.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°Alright, and what about challenges?¡± John asked, ¡°What are they and how do I find them?¡±

    ¡°There are lots of different types of challenges,¡± Buck replied, ¡°The Gauntlet was one actually, though the reward for that one was shards. There are challenges spread throughout this round and they¡¯re usually pretty easy to find. The more challenges you complete, the faster you¡¯ll find card and the more views you¡¯ll get. Of course, at this stage in the game their main draw is allowing you to complete your deck which is a requirement for entering the torii gate to the next round.¡±

    Catching a glimpse of John¡¯s quizzical face, the triceratops also hastily added: ¡°shards are like an in-game currency that can be spent at the kiosk, you should have gotten some for completing The Gauntlet.¡±

    ¡°Ok,¡± John replied slowly, ¡°and what about skills?¡±

    He had received three skills in total since the start of the game and he was pretty sure the latest one was the reason he had managed to defeat the Whowie.

    ¡°Skills?¡± Buck replied with narrowed eyes, ¡°did you hit your head when you passed out or something? I know I¡¯ve been calling it a game, but this is no video game John. People don¡¯t just get randomly awarded skill points.¡±

    How odd, John thought, deciding to play along and keep his mysterious skills to himself for now. Perhaps it was a glitch in the system and if that was the case he didn¡¯t want anyone nerfing it.

    ¡°Ooh,¡± Truffle said, scrabbling at the countertop and trying to look over the top, ¡°I have a question! How come I haven¡¯t needed to poop yet?¡±

    Both John and Buck looked at him incredulously. Then, scratching the back of his scaled head, Buck replied. ¡°Bodily functions like that have been turned off for the duration of the game. Back in the early days they didn¡¯t used to do that, or so I¡¯ve heard, but it tanked the show¡¯s ratings. Turns out most people don¡¯t want to watch a dude drop to his haunches to drop a deuce. Though, from what I¡¯ve seen of this planet¡¯s culture, some humans paid good money for exactly that. Apparently it was quite popular on a site called OnlyFans, along with sending pictures of feet. Your species is weird.¡±

    Truffle looked oddly upset, but he didn¡¯t say anything.

    A shiver passed down John¡¯s spine as he realised that toilet time would never be the same again. Man¡¯s single moment of peaceful, uninterrupted solace had been soiled. Cast into the annals of history.

    Pushing the intrusive thought out of his mind, John rose from his stool and approached the kiosk in the corner of the diner. The rectangular machine was about the hight and width of a typical arcade game. However, in place of a joystick or card reader, there was simply a console with the shape of a hand outlined on it.

    Placing his hand on the machine, John felt a warmth spread through his palm and fingers as flashing lights glowed beneath his skin.

    Then, the screen lit up.

    It looked similar to an online retailer¡¯s interface with a search function, a cart and even recommended items. John looked through the recommended section and saw something interesting.

    Contestant Interface:

    Recommended for all contestants, the interface will allow you to see your cards, level, ratings, a map, and the number of days until the round ends, at any time.

    Price: 50 shards

    50 shards, John thought, that¡¯s half my total winnings from that gauntlet game.

    His total shards were listed in big numbers at the top of the screen. John knew that an interface would be useful, he had no idea how long it had been since he¡¯d landed in the outback and he imagined that time would become even more difficult to effectively judge as the game went on.

    Hesitantly, he added it to his cart and then navigated the search function to find cards.

    Cards:

    You cannot currently afford any cards. The purchase of cards starts at 1000 shards.

    ¡°1000 shards!¡± John yelled, then caught himself and dialled it back a bit.

    He would have to complete ten challenges to get that many. He¡¯d only gained 100 from The Gauntlet and he¡¯d nearly died fighting the Whowie. How was he ever going to get a full deck if that was the price point?

    ¡°Most people get their cards through specific challenges,¡± Buck said after hearing John¡¯s accidental yelp. ¡°Challenge cards are usually better anyway. The main reason you can purchase them at the kiosk is for situations such as only needing one more to qualify to enter the gate¡­ well, that and the executives¡¯ team building days.¡±

    Nodding along thoughtfully, John decided to attempt to address one of his other immediate needs: clothing. The search function brought up all sorts of items from board shorts and bikinis to full plate armour and tactical combat gear.

    John found himself scrolling for a while before something in his price range actually caught his eye.

    Upgradable Duster (common):

    This stylish duster is the perfect companion for the desert dwelling contestant. Keep the sun off your back and the monster¡¯s out of your organs. This luxurious piece of kit boasts a generous self-repair function and a minor defence against melee damage. It can also be upgraded, so you can keep it until the day you inevitable get brutally murdered.

    Now available in black, brown, or tan!

    Price: 45 shards.

    That seemed more like it. A piece of clothing that he could keep and that offered him some protection from both melee attacks and the elements.

    With a sly smile, he added a black one to his basket and then added a cheap pair of jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt, bringing his total to a rounded 100 shards.

    John clicked to purchase and two things happened. Firstly, a small tube rocketed out of a clear hole in the machine, nearly hitting John in the gut. Secondly, his vision went blank for a moment and he felt a sharp pain in his hand as, what appeared to be, alien computer code took over his retina.

    It was like watching an old PC booting up as green text lit up his vision, typing frantically across the screen before disappearing.

    Once it was gone, his vision returned, but it was different from before. In his periphery there were various numbers and options for him to choose. They weren¡¯t particularly invasive unless he actively looked for them, but they were always there, no matter how much he shook his head or tried to look away.

    ¡°Are you ok Boss?¡± Truffle asked in a concerned voice, ¡°do you have fleas? You¡¯re shaking your head like you have fleas.¡±

    ¡°No Truffle,¡± John replied, ¡°I¡¯m just testing something out.¡±

    ¡°I know that reaction,¡± Buck said wistfully, ¡°you bought a contestant interface didn¡¯t you? It¡¯s a good purchase, as long as you don¡¯t mind The Council being inside your head forever.¡±

    There were a few different features floating around in John¡¯s vision, the most noticeable was a mini map. When he concentrated it expanded and he could see a little trail leading towards a big rock surrounded by blackness.

    It seemed the map only updated with places he¡¯d physically been. He wondered if he could find The Gauntlet on it but pushed the idea out of his mind as he looked through the next feature.

    His level was also there, it said level N/A and when he concentrated on it nothing happened. That was odd, surely he¡¯d gained enough experience to have a least a single level by now?

    Next to that there was a section that said countdown 8 days remaining in large writing.

    Wait, John thought, I¡¯ve been here for two days already?

    How had that happened? He¡¯d barely done anything. He was also slightly annoyed that it only showed days and not the exact number of hours and minutes left. It seemed like a flaw in the system, but he was certain it was purposeful.

    He turned towards Buck for answers but the dinosaur was way ahead of him, lifting his finger like a schoolteacher giving a lecture.

    ¡°You can¡¯t level up until you¡¯ve acquired a full deck of cards. Once you have though, and your level increases, you¡¯ll be able to buy better items at the kiosk,¡± Buck explained. ¡°It also increases things like your strength and how much damage you can take before you die.

    Before you ask, no, you can¡¯t see those stats; The Council took that feature out a few seasons ago after a clever contestant started gaming the system to become overpowered... It was a real mess.

    ¡°As for the timer, yes it has been two days already and the reason it feels like less to you is because you¡¯ve been unconscious for a lot of it. You were the final contestant on The Gauntlet and you were kept in stasis until it was your turn.¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± Truffle said in awe, ¡°are you a mind reader? I think he¡¯s a mind reader boss.¡±

    ¡°No, not at all,¡± Buck chuckled, ¡°I¡¯ve just been doing this a long time.¡±

    John flushed an angry crimson colour and the triceratops flinched, raising his hands defensively.

    ¡°Check your ratings!¡± He squealed and John noticed another section in his peripheral vision. It was entitled ratings and he focused on it to see if it expanded.

    Ratings:

    Rating: 4.2 stars

    Views: 100,038

    Likes: 17,382

    Follows: 10,021

    ¡°Ok, that¡¯s a lot of views,¡± John said slowly, ¡°are people watching me right now?¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah,¡± Buck replied with a shrug, ¡°this is a game show, people are watching you all the time. How do you think The Council makes its money? Though that¡¯s not as many as you might think. The entire universe is watching, that¡¯s not even one view per system. You¡¯ll have to work pretty hard if you want to get your views up, especially with so much competition out there at the moment. But, if you do get popular, I promise it¡¯ll be worth it.¡±

    John stood silently for a moment as the horror sank in. He would never have a moment of privacy again. His life was valued at how popular he was on a game show and how many people followed him. This must have been what it felt like to be a social media influencer, but without the ego trip and copious amount of money for doing fuck all.

    His wife, Anne, had always loved posting things on social media. She¡¯d posted holiday pictures, pictures of Truffle, even the food they got at restaurants, but this was a whole other level.

    He tried to put the thought out of his mind. He hated this, hated all of it, but there was no use dwelling on it now. It wasn¡¯t like there was anything he could do about his situation anyway. Besides, there was only one thing that mattered to him at the moment, and that was collecting cards and getting stronger.

    He walked towards the tube that had nearly winded him and pressed the release clasp on the side.

    Unfurling his new clothes, he dressed himself and donned his black duster. He had only one regret once he¡¯d put on his new outfit.

    I wish I¡¯d have bought some underwear.

 Chapter 9 â€“ Perth

    After donning his new outfit John resigned himself to what he would have to do next. He needed to collect more cards if he wanted to survive.

    That meant he needed to find the closest challenge.

    Turning to Buck with a steely gaze he said: ¡°tell me where the closest challenge is.¡±

    ¡°Hold up a moment,¡± the triceratops began, ¡°you¡¯ve only just woken up, you¡¯re not in any condition to go jumping into the next challenge. You don¡¯t even know how healing works! You should take at least-¡±

    ¡°Then tell me how healing works,¡± John said, cutting him off, ¡° then just point me in the right direction and we¡¯ll be off.¡±

    ¡°I must insist you stay at least a little longer,¡± the dinosaur began, but upon seeing John¡¯s folded arms and stern expression, he realised his pleas would fall on deaf ears. ¡°Fine. Without a card for it, healing can only be achieved in three ways. Using the traditional methods of this planet, getting it as a reward for a quest ¨C though that¡¯s usually an immediate thing, or resting in the bed here at the Sleep Shack.¡± John nodded along and then glared at the dinosaur to continue after he stopped talking. ¡°There¡¯s a city nearby,¡± he began with a sigh, ¡°head south-west from here, your map should act as a compass. Just¡­be careful.¡±

    Was that¡­ concern? John thought, taken aback a little by his tone. Buck had been the reason he¡¯d been injured in the first place. Surely the dinosaur didn¡¯t actually care if he lived or died?

    ¡°Ooh,¡± Truffle said, perking up and looking at John with large, round eyes. ¡°Do you think Mistress is in Perth? Are we going to go and find her?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± John muttered, though he knew, of course, that they would not find Anne in the city. That gunshot had been a pretty clear indicator of her fate, and even if she had survived it, she would have never made it through the portal in time. She didn¡¯t even want to go through in the first place.

    He knew that he should have told Truffle the truth there and then, but something about the hopefulness in his companion¡¯s eyes made him doubt himself.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± John said, casting a final glance at the prehistoric bartender before turning on his heels and leaving the diner.

    Truffle trotted happily at his side. For a teacup pig, he was surprisingly quick.

    They walked in silence for a long time with nothing but the south-west direction indicator on John¡¯s interface to lead them.

    The outback was a barren wasteland of red sand and wilting bushes. He was unsure if it had always been that way or if it had somehow been changed by the arrival of the system.

    It didn¡¯t really matter, what was more important was surviving the harsh sun long enough to reach the city.

    The weather was positively sweltering and despite his new duster doing its best to keep the sun from burning his skin, John felt as if he was slowly being cooked alive.

    Perhaps Truffle would eat his corpse if he died of sunstroke. If nothing else, the pig might be able to take his card and keep going. Though how a pig would use two revolvers was beyond him.

    Could Truffle even have cards? Was he considered a contestant?

    In contrast, Truffle trotted happily at his owner¡¯s side, whistling an annoyingly jaunty tune.

    ¡°How are you not as hot and bothered as I am?¡± John finally said as his temper began to rise with the searing heat.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Truffle replied, ¡°I¡¯m a stick away from a spit roast out here, but we¡¯re going on an adventure. I love adventures! Mistress used to take me on walks sometimes. When you were at work she¡¯d take me all over town in her car. I miss the car. Do you think we can find one?¡±

    ¡°Maybe if we¡¯re lucky,¡± John replied, though he wasn¡¯t hopeful.

    The hours passed as the two crossed the outback and just as the sun began to crest the horizon, they saw the glimmering lights of Perth. The map must have been shrunken somehow. Though he¡¯d never been to Australia before, he knew that it was a huge country with most of the population living by the coast. If it was full sized then surely there was no way they¡¯d have made it to the coast so quickly.

    The city was a sprawling metropolis of glass skyscrapers, luscious gardens and deep blue waters. It was a beacon at the edge of the desolate, outback wasteland. The stark contrast between desert brush and civilisation was shocking though, only furthering John¡¯s suspicions about the map being shrunken. How did The Council even have the technology to do this?

    John wasn¡¯t sure exactly what he was expecting to see upon their arrival, but a vibrant, beautiful cityscape definitely wasn¡¯t it. He¡¯d assumed it would be more Fallout: New Vegas.

    As they passed the first few buildings he began scanning their surroundings for signs of life¡­ and danger.

    ¡°It¡¯s quiet here,¡± Truffle mused as he trotted next to John¡¯s side, ¡°I thought cities were supposed to have lots of people.¡±

    ¡°They are,¡± John replied, still watching his empty surroundings wearily.

    In contrast to the outback, which was a sprawling surface with good sightlines, the city was a rat run of alleyways, streets and buildings. They could be attacked at any time, from any direction.

    John was acutely aware of this fact as they ventured further into Perth. Turning a corner, John stopped, blinking a few times to check that what he was seeing was really there. Before him laid a dozen corpses. He moved wearily towards them, Truffle hot on his heels.

    Approaching the first body, which had begun to stink like gangrene in the hot sun, he noticed a plethora of stab wounds to the sternum and chest. Whoever this person was, they¡¯d been brutally murdered. He¡¯d have to keep a closer eye on those alleyways.

    All of the bodies were dressed in the same, albeit now tattered, blue jumpsuits which John had been wearing when his pod first landed.

    Such a waste of life, he thought dourly as Truffle trotted eagerly towards one of them, a young brunette girl. Her face was permanently stuck in an expression of pure fear. The rigor mortis must have begun to set in.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Boss look!¡± Truffle squealed excitedly, ¡°isn¡¯t that thing on her neck just the best? I want it, can you get it for me?¡±

    Following the pig¡¯s gaze, John¡¯s eyes rested on a white bowtie with little red polka dots. He almost denied Truffle¡¯s request, but frankly he was just glad that the pig hadn¡¯t started eating the bodies. With a sigh, he carefully removed the bowtie and fastened it around Truffle¡¯s neck.

    I wonder where she got this from? He thought, did she meet a dinosaur too and buy it from a kiosk. He couldn¡¯t see any weapons nearby. Surely she¡¯d have needed one to earn the shards to buy the bowtie. That was, unless there were still some intact shops around.

    ¡°How do I look?¡± Truffle asked, puffing his tiny chest out.

    ¡°Marvelous,¡± John replied dryly. He had kind of been hoping that the bowtie would be some kind of in-game item that¡¯d bestow a stat boost or a perk, but if it was Truffle hadn¡¯t mentioned it. Considering the pig couldn¡¯t keep his mouth shut about even the most mundane of things, John had to assume that it was in fact, just a regular old bowtie.

    Well, as long as you¡¯re happy.

    ***

    ¡°How exactly do we find this challenge?¡± Truffle asked, after an hour or so of diligent exploring in which they¡¯d found absolutely nothing. ¡°Do you think they have signs? Ooh, maybe there will be a sign-up sheet!¡±

    ¡°I doubt they have those,¡± John replied absently.

    ¡°Well they should,¡± Truffle continued, ¡°how else are people supposed to know how to enter? Do you think they¡¯ll let me enter? I could be your second. I¡¯m fierce you know, it¡¯s in my blood. My mother once bit a breeder right on the nose and-¡±

    ¡°Quiet,¡± John hissed, ¡°I think I heard something.¡±

    The two waited silently in the middle of a wide street with tall glass buildings on either side.

    CRASH.

    John turned quickly in the direction of the noise which sounded like a trash can being knocked over. With the exception of that, the city was a ghost town and eerily silent. Something definitely wasn¡¯t right.

    He heard scampering, like the sound of padding on the concrete, from behind him.

    Spinning again he caught the flash of a moving shadow as it disappeared down a side alley.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s watching us,¡± he said in a low voice, ¡°let¡¯s keep walking, but stay quiet. Whoever they are, we need to be vigilant. We don¡¯t want to end up like those poor guys we found.¡±

    ¡°Got it boss!¡± Truffle replied loudly to John¡¯s internal scorn, ¡°whoever they are, they¡¯ve brought a knife to a gun fight.¡±

    They walked slowly down the street as John deftly kept watch on the alleyways from the corners of his eyes. The scampering sounds continued and seemed to be getting closer.

    Whatever was following them, it wasn¡¯t as subtle as it thought it was.

    He heard the sound of padding feet creeping up behind him and just as the noise seemed within touching distance, he drew his revolvers from his card and span on his heels to face the stalker.

    Extending his arms threateningly, he stared down the sights of the weapons at their pursuer.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± He demanded.

    A small koala stood before him and cocked its head as it looked up at him quizzically.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± He asked, lowering his guns.

    ¡°He¡¯s so cute!¡± Truffle squealed, ¡°can we keep him Boss? Please!¡±

    Truffle trotted forwards and the curious koala backed up a step. It was taller than the pig, but it seemed a little skittish all the same.

    What was a wild animal like that doing in the middle of a city?

    ¡°It¡¯s ok little guy, I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡± Truffle cooed as he took careful steps towards the creature.

    ¡°Little?¡± John mused, ¡°it¡¯s twice the size of you.¡±

    The teacup pig turned back, giving John a pointed look, before continuing to pursue the small bear.

    The koala stood still as Truffle got close enough to nuzzle it. Then, as the pig raised his head towards the small creature¡¯s face, it screamed.

    The noise was deafening and bounced off the glass windows of the nearby buildings in a ricocheting echo. If there was anyone, or anything, in the city, they certainly knew where they were now.

    Truffle jumped backwards startled as another koala popped its head out from a side alley.

    Then another appeared, and another, and another¡­

    Within seconds they were surrounded by a sea of the little grey bears.

    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± John asked, turning around as the menagerie of chattering koalas cocked their heads and looked up at him in unison.

    He turned back to the first one that had arrived. It was in the middle of a circle with John and Truffle, surrounded on all sides by an ocean of the creatures.

    It looked up at him and moved its paws behind its back as if it was a soldier standing on parade in the at ease position.

    Removing its hands from behind its back it produced two small knives. Its eyes glowed red as it flashed rows of sharp teeth at them and began gnashing them.

    Then, in unison, all the koalas produced knives from behind their backs and began clashing them together like tiny chefs sharpening their tools before some prep work.

    ¡°Why do they have knives?¡± Truffle asked.

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they have knives?¡± John replied monotonously. ¡°I hate this game.¡±

    As if on cue, the hoard of koalas charged at them and John opened fire.

    He shot the first one squarely in the face and its head exploded like a viscera filled water balloon. A second koala dived at him and bit into his ankle.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he swore, kicking at the feral bear which flew through the air and landed somewhere amidst the swarming crowd.

    ¡°What do we do John?¡± Truffle asked, backing up, ¡°I know I said I¡¯m fierce but I can¡¯t fight this many.¡±

    ¡°RUN!¡± John shouted, scooping up Truffle and charging into one side of the hoard.

    Adrenaline coursed through him as he made a mad dash for the nearest alleyway, kicking and firing wildly as he went.

    The sound of clanging steel was deafening as he waded through the sea of koalas.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Truffle screamed from under his arm as a red-eyed koala jumped out of the crowd with a vicious smile on its face.

    John lifted his free arm to block it, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough as the spry animal landed on his shoulder, knives out in front of it.

    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± He shouted as the two blades impaled his upper pec.

    The koala hung on, knives sticking into John like it was climbing an ice wall. Its chittering teeth sounded like laughter.

    Dropping his revolver, he grabbed the little cretin and threw it back into the crowd before jumping over the remaining bears into the alleyway.

    ¡°We made it,¡± he sighed, pressing his hand into his bleeding chest.

    ¡°Uh, boss,¡± Truffle said, ¡°you might want to look behind you.¡±

    John turned just in time to see the feral beasts gush into the alleyway, a torrent of fluffy mayhem, as they charged towards him, clambering over one another as some of them appeared to be running on the walls.

    Like Indiana Jones with a golden idol in his hands, John turned and sprinted down the alleyway with Truffle clutched tightly under his arm.

    ¡°What the hell is wrong with these things?¡± He shouted exasperatedly, between heavy breaths.

    ¡°It¡¯s always the cute ones,¡± Truffle replied, ¡°being adorable is a fa?ade.¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not speaking from personal experience,¡± John replied as he pumped his legs as fast as he could.

    Truffle didn¡¯t have time to reply as they reached the end of the alleyway which opened up into a wide-open expanse, ringed with buildings.

    John could hear the koalas closing in on him, so, mustering the last of his strength, he put his head down, channelling his inner football player, and charging straight into the middle of an open area.

    His legs burned something fierce as he pumped his free arm for all he was worth.

    CRASH.

    He fell onto his backside as he collided with something.

    ¡°Ow, what the-¡±

    ¡°Who the hell are-¡±

    ¡°Get out of my way-¡±

    John looked up towards the unfamiliar voices to see two men and a woman. It seemed all four of them had collided with one another.

    He had so many questions, but the koalas were closing in. There would be time for answers later. Moving to stand, he looked behind himself to see that the hoard of cuddly death bears had stopped.

    They seemed to be shuffling in from four separate alleyways that all led into the same grassy expanse that he now found himself in.

    They formed a ring around the group of humans, and Truffle, and then just¡­ stopped. Red eyes glared at them from all sides as the newcomers looked just as unsure as John felt.

    Well folks, it seems our lucky contestants have finally arrived, a jovial and familiar voice rang out from all around them and invaded John¡¯s mind.

    ¡°I think we¡¯ve found the next challenge,¡± John said, his stomach flip flopping as the annoying voice of the announcer surrounded them.

    Are you ready for the Hob-Koala Hullabaloo? The announcer asked loudly, like a gameshow host hyping up a crowd, because I know I am, and this one is sure to be the bomb.